The Most Bitter Blow
by EnforcerAndAccuserFan
Summary: When Elizabeth Stabler is raped, she, her family and their friends are affected. Months have passed and with them came change. SVU/CI crossover, Rated M for subject matter. a/n: I own no SVU/CI characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Queens, New York City, Private Residence, Friday afternoon**

Fourteen-year-old Elizabeth Stabler lay prone across her grandmother's bed, her head turned to one side. She was not seeing, even though her eyes took in the closet door. She was not thinking or even feeling. She was just…there.

At one point she unhurriedly rose to her feet and gradually made her way towards the door. As she passed the large wall mirror overlooking the long dresser, she glanced towards her reflection and then froze. There was a discolored lump on her forehead. Both eyes were red, and there were assorted bruises on her body.

Suddenly, the recent events impacted her like a tsunami. With a surge of horrified energy, she raced downstairs and flew through the kitchen, reaching the utility room near the back door. There she hastily grabbed a house coat from a clothes basket and pulled it on. Then she escaped out of the back door.

_I need help I need help I need help I need help I need help I need help I need help---_

Suddenly, she was standing in the middle of the road, oblivious to the cold pavement under her bare feet. Looking around frantically, she spied a police patrol car turning onto the block. She ran straight at it.

By the time Elizabeth reached the car, it had stopped and its uniformed occupants, one male and one female, were standing on either side. Although the woman started moving cautiously towards her, Elizabeth veered to her partner. Grabbing his biceps, she looked beseechingly into his eyes as she spoke:

"Please get me to a hospital! But don't tell my dad, he's a cop---he'll be _so _angry I've been raped that he'll go crazy, and don't tell my mom, she's with the baby and, I don't know what she'll do with him being _sick_---don't tell my parents _right now_!"

"OK, OK," replied the male officer calmly, "it's all right now, honey, you're safe. And we don't have to call your parents right this minute. That can happen later."

"Thank you---thank you!" Elizabeth was nodding quickly.

"Why don't we get you out of the cold now? My partner can get you a blanket."

Minutes later, after necessary questions had been answered, Elizabeth sat in the back of the patrol car with the partner as backup arrived. She didn't notice because she kept her face turned into the woman's shoulder. She didn't want anyone to recognize her and somehow contact her parents. She also didn't want anyone to see her, Elizabeth Stabler, after she had been---

A sobbing cry flew from her mouth, muffled against the officer's uniform.

"It's all right, honey," soothed the woman, "we're going to be getting you help real soon."

As if on cue, her partner opened the driver's door and slid behind the wheel.

"They have their orders," he said as the other car passed them to come to a stop a few doors down the street. "Including the 'gag' order."

"So they're not going to call my father?" Elizabeth asked anxiously.

"That's right, hon," assured the man, holding the radio microphone, "nobody's gonna call your father."

_Not for a while, at least._

After dispatch had been duly informed---with the addendum "Remember to be discrete"---the black and white took the traumatized girl to the nearest hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

**One Police Plaza**

"Bobby? Captain Ross wants us to see him now," Detective Alexandra "Alex" Eames said to her partner as she hung up her phone.

Detective Robert "Bobby" Goren finished his coffee in one quick swallow before rising and followed her into their superior's office. Inside Captain Dan Ross sat behind his desk looking particularly grim. Goren wasn't surprised when the CO gestured for them to sit.

"A _top priority_ case was kicked to us just minutes ago," he explained, frowning. "It's a rape case involving the 14-year-old daughter of a Manhatten SVU cop." He paused to allow them to react to the information and recover. Then he continued.

"The officer lives in Queens, where the attack took place. Captain David Tompkins, the CO of Queens SVU, feels that it's a bit too close to home, being that it occurred to one of our own in _their_ territory. Plus a number of his people live in the borough. Needless to say, he's concerned that somebody is liable to give a suspect a bit 'justice' before the DNA results come back, opening up a can of rotten worms."

"Lawsuits, damaged community relations, political strife, ---all the good stuff," Goren interjected, nodding.

"That's why he felt it was best that the case be handled by 'a more neutral precinct," Ross concluded. "And the brass agrees."

"I take it, then, that the teen's parent is someone _we're_"---he indicated himself and Eames---"not familiar with," Goren said, habitually cocking his head.

"I don't know him either," said Ross, "though I have spoken to his CO, Captain Cragen, occasionally at some functions. But by now I sure you both know who _Elliot Stabler_ is."

Eames raised her eyebrows in recognition. "That's the guy whose daughter got snagged for D.U.I. after he'd made it go away," she said as her partner nodded.

"But you've never met, correct?" Ross verified and received two negative head shakes in response.

"That's one reason why I've chosen you two for this case," the captain continued. "Another reason is your experience: both of you have handled cases involving rape. But a major consideration involves you, Bobby. Not too long ago you followed the clues, rather than your heart, after the death of a fellow officer. If can remain objective for that…" Ross knew he didn't need to finish the sentence.

"So what do we have so far?" Goren was ready to begin.

"Mrs. Stabler dropped Elizabeth off at her grandmother's house after school," explained Ross, looking at a faxed paper, "about an hour ago. A few minutes later the grandmother---Mrs. Colleen Maynard---leaves on an emergency, and a couple of minutes after _that_ a man claiming to be a meter reader knocks on the door. The girl lets him inside, and the creep rapes and sodomizes her." He shook his head in disgust and continued.

"Afterwards she runs out to the street and flags down a patrol car. Sergeant Allen Riche took her initial information because according to him, she passed up his partner, Paula Keller for him."

"She may have seen him as an extension of her father," suggested Goren. "Has the crime scene been secured yet?"

"Yes, backup took care of it," answered Ross. "You can check with them and CSU later. Right now, you two need to get to the hospital and take her statement. You are to be _strictly_ _professional _about this matter. Treat it as you would any other rape case. _Do_ _not_ give any information out to_ anyone_ except for those involved in the case. _Do not_ accept any 'help' from anyone outside of the case, especially Detective Stabler himself."

"Understood, Captain," said Eames, accepting a thin folder from him.

"Has Stabler been notified yet?" Goren wanted to know

"No," Captain Ross replied. "I called Captain Cragen a few minutes ago; Stabler's still in court. Mrs. Maynard, however, arrived back home shortly after Elizabeth was taken to Hillside Hospital in Glen Oaks. After giving her the bad news, they told her that the department would notify her son-in-law, so she called her daughter on her cell before a unit drove her to the hospital."

Then the two detectives rose and began making their way to the door.

"Oh, and one other thing," Ross added, making them pause. "You'll probably beat Stabler there, but whenever he _does_ arrive, try to avoid speaking with him tonight. He'll probably want to pump you for information, and that will just slow you down _and_ get _him_ angry and frustrated when he can't get anything."

Minutes later they were on their way. As usual, Eames drove while her partner sat and read about their case. This allowed for them to prepare for their next move(s).

"You speak to her and record her statement," he said five minutes into the ride. "Although she went to Riche, she might not be as willing to speak to _another_ man."

Eames nodded. "Especially a tall, stocky man like you," she said. "No offense."

"None taken," he answered nonchalantly. "If she permits, however, I'd like be in the room when she talks." Ever perceptive, Goren always carefully observed the actions and body language of suspects and victims, obtaining valuable information.

Nodding in agreement, she asked: "What does the preliminary report say about her state of mind?"

Looking in the file, he replied, "When she spoke to Riche, she was upset and pleading that her parents not be notified immediately…and that her father would be angry about her rape." Goren fell silent, remembering his own rage at the late Mark Ford Brady, the executed rapist-murderer who had assaulted the detective's mother decades ago. Prior to the man's termination, Goren had grabbed the man's throat and pinned him against the wall, stopping only with great restraint. Goren frowned and shook his head.

"Hey, are you all right with this?" Eames asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he reassured, relaxing somewhat. And he was: his mother and her attacker were both dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about the case. Elizabeth Stabler's case, however, was current---no immediate. The sooner they caught the perp the better---for the girl _and_ her family, especially her father.

Meanwhile, Eames continued to drive, keeping her thoughts to herself. _It's been a few months since Bobby's been cleared for duty after his undercover stint in that hellish institution. He's since worked a few cases rough cases without any problems. Still, with his mother---but if the shrink says he's fine, than he's fine. And therapy helped me get back on the job after that situation with Jo Gage. So, we'll both just go from here. If worse comes to worse, I can always ask the captain to pull him out of the case_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hillside Hospital, Glen Oaks, Queens**

Arriving at the hospital emergency room, Elizabeth, accompanied by Officer Keller, was wheeled to a private exam room.

"Now Elizabeth," the slim redhead said gently, "there's going to be a number of examinations. Do you want me to stay---"

"Yes," came the answer immediately and unequivocally.

"All right," replied the officer gently. "Now I have to ask you a question: do you want to press charges?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said sadly. "If I don't, he---he might come after Grandma next, or he might get one of the neighbors, or some else. I---I just want to get the rape exam and formal statement over with!"

"You know about the exam and the statement?" Keller was impressed, though she kept her tone easy.

"Some of my friends have dads---and one mom---who are cops," explained the teen. "A few have relatives who are nurses or EMT's. Sometimes at school or at a slumber party we'll talk about stuff we mostly overhear." She suddenly became alert. "Do my parents have to be in the room when the exam or the statement is done?!"

"No," the officer reassured. "You can see them when you're finished."

Elizabeth sighed with obvious relief. "All right, then you can call my mom now."

Nodding, Keller moved across the room to relay pertinent information to her partner via radio, keeping her voice low. Riche was just as discreet when he told her that Mrs. Maynard was en route after notifying Mrs. Stabler. He would escort them to the waiting area and stay with them, he said. As the call ended, a petite, black-haired woman in scrubs entered the room.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Peck," she said, her voice pleasant and professional. Going to the girl in the wheelchair, she leaned down and said reassuringly: "Elizabeth, I'll be treating you. I'll make this as easy for you as possible."

"We'll also need a rape kit done," informed Keller.

"All right, then I'll get the necessary items," Dr. Peck said.

Soon, Elizabeth began her painful journey through the medical and rape exams. First, her vital signs were taken. Then, after a concussion was ruled out, the girl stood on a large sheet of paper and dropped the blanket and the house coat onto evidence bags and changed into a gown. Next she had to answer medical questions: easy ones ("Are you allergic to any medications?") and not-so-easy ones ("Have you ever had sex?"---which she hadn't). Although she was told the information gleamed was needed to appropriately treat her, she was still embarrassed.

Mercifully, the next parts were more endurable. Swabs were taken from under her fingernails first. Then hairs were plucked from her head. ("They will be used to compare against those of the rapist," explained Keller tactfully.)

Subsequently, the physical examinations commenced. In addition to the now purplish lump near her temple, the doctor found bruises on her wrists, her abdomen, her back, and her thighs. When the injuries were photographed, Elizabeth cried silently but cooperated willingly.

Next came the most difficult parts of the exam. After semen was found on her thighs via ultra violet lamp, the reluctant teen was directed to lie down on the examination table and position her feet far apart in stirrups; Dr. Peck swabbed the evidence. Afterward, Keller's gentle words and supportive hand barely kept the weeping girl relaxed enough for the doctor to diagnose vaginal trauma, swab her vagina, and comb her pubic hair. When a few strands were plucked for comparison, the patient remained silent. But as Elizabeth repositioned herself for the retinal exam and swab, she sobbed aloud, despite comforting words from both women.

Finally, after giving saliva samples for comparison, she went into the final phases of her experience. After the doctor took blood for STD/AIDS testing ("Though the odds are against you contracting AIDS after one sexual contact, we have to make sure," Dr. Peck said.) and urine to test for pregnancy ("To make it official," explained Keller.), she was administered antibiotics as a precaution. Then the doctor offered the "morning-after pill," explaining that it was her choice.

Elizabeth looked at the medication in anguish. Earlier, her virginity had been ruthlessly stolen. Now, because of him she had to choose between violating the Church's teaching and risking unwed and unwanted pregnancy. _ The Devil or the deep blue sea?! A rock or a hard place?!_

"Easy, easy," the doctor gently urged as the girl snatched the pill, tossed it into her mouth, and hastily swallowed the cup of water.

"Can Elizabeth have her shower now?" Keller asked rhetorically for the girl's benefit.

"Yes," Dr. Peck said, nodding. "We're done, Elizabeth. You'll also be provided with clothes, plus some care instructions to take home with you."

**A few minutes later at the 16****th**** Precinct**

Elliot Stabler walked into the building with satisfaction. He was unaware that his youngest daughter was furiously scrubbing her violated body under a hot spray. He was equally ignorant of his anguished wife, who clung to her distressed mother in a hospital waiting area. All he knew was that his testimony had gone as well Casey had predicted.

So he was completely surprised when the scene at the bullpen was that of subdued activity. His colleagues worked solemnly and perfunctorily. Nobody asked about the court session. In fact, Olivia, usually inquisitive, only glanced at him before turning quickly back to her computer terminal.

_Something really bad has happened, what---?_

Just as Elliot drawing a conclusion, Cragen called: "Elliot, my office please?" It almost sounded like a gentle request. Feeling uneasy, the detective complied, closing the door behind him. Thus, he didn't see Olivia slump back dejectedly in her chair, John remove his glasses to rub his eyes, Fin slam his fist into his open hand, and Chester suddenly excuse himself from the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**He Learns**

"What's wrong, captain?" Elliot asked, frowning.

"Elliot, why don't you sit down?" Cragen quietly urged.

Still standing, Elliot exclaimed: "It's about Eli, isn't it!" He recalled how a double ear infection had sent him, Kathy, and the baby to the emergency room the night before.

The captain put a paternal hand on his shoulder. "Elizabeth was visiting her grandmother," he explained softly, "who had to leave on an emergency. Later a man purporting to be from Con Ed went to the house 'to read the meter in the basement,' but he---"Cragen looked away grimacing, and then he sadly turned back to Elliot. "After he'd left, she flagged down a unit on patrol. I'm very sorry, Elliot."

Elliot stood agape, his glistening eyes wide under furrowed brows. "Cap---wh-where is she!" the agonized detective demanded, his voice strained.

"She's at Hillside Hospital---"

The three anticipant detectives in the bullpen were putting on their coats when the door to Cragen's office abruptly burst open. Elliot lunged out, looking around frantically. "**Olivia!"**

"I'm here, Elliot---we all are," she said supportively, moving quickly to his side. "Munch is going to drive us to the hos---"

"Let's go!" He flew out of the room with his three colleagues following swiftly in his wake.

A few seconds later Chester, having discretely cancelled his evening plans, solemnly returned to the room. Having witnessed the others' speedy departure, he wordlessly reported to his CO. "What are you orders, captain?"

"Elliot is obviously not going to be working for a while," Cragen said soberly and firmly, "so you're going to have to help pick up some of the slack." Walking over to Elliot's desk, he picked up a folder and gave it to Lake. "I had just put this on his desk for him and Olivia right before…Captain Ross' call. It's your and Fin's case now."

"Yes sir." The detective nodded. "You know, for the relatively short time I've been here, I've gathered that Elliot is very protective of his kids."

"He is," Cragen affirmed, nodding.

"I thought he'd be even _more_ whacked out," the young detective continued. "I'm surprised he took it like he did, all things considering."

"That's because it all hasn't sunk in yet," sighed the captain.

**Hillside Hospital**

While Elliot, Olivia, Fin, and Munch made their emotion-filled drive to Queens, Eames and Goren were directed to a waiting area near the exam rooms. There they were briefed by Sgt. Riche, who subsequently introduced them to Elizabeth's mother and grandmother. After assuring the two teary women that they would do their best to apprehend the attacker, the detectives excused themselves to take the girl's statement.

"But isn't this too soon for her?" asked the worried Kathy.

"My partner, who's been with Elizabeth the whole time, says that your daughter _wants_ to do it now," Riche explained reassuringly. "And she has a lot of courage for doing so."

"Plus, we're going to do everything we can to make it as easy as possible for her," added Eames. "We'll even stop at any point, if it comes to that."

"All right," Kathy replied after a few seconds, relaxing somewhat. "We-we'll be right out here, waiting for my husband."

Shortly thereafter, the interview commenced in the exam room. Elizabeth, having showered and changed into the clothes provided, sat in a chair opposite Eames, who was using a small tape recorder to log the statement. Meanwhile, Goren, whose presence had been unequivocally permitted by the girl, stood quietly off to the side, well out of her field of vision.

"After school I went to my Grandma's," Elizabeth began quietly but steadily. "She has to get ready for a bake sale, and my mom can't help her this time---Eli's got an ear infection. So I am…I was supposed to help her and spend the night." She paused, closing her eyes, before continuing.

"But…but around 3:00---we had the radio on---a neighbor called---Gina something. She needed someone to watch her daughter while she went to the hospital for something---I forget. So Grandma told me to work on the batters, because she wouldn't be long---maybe an hour before---before Gina's son got home from college."

Tears began streaming from her eyes next. "I don't think…she was gone five minutes when there was a knock on the door. I answered---figured Grandma had forgotten something…and there was this man. He…looked kinda surprised and asked if my grandma was home. I told him no, she wouldn't be back for an hour, and he sorta smiled"---her face crinkled---"and said that he just wanted to read the meter." She wiped her eyes using a tissue from the box on her lap.

"Elizabeth," asked Eames gently, "did the man show you his employee identification?"

"No!" Elizabeth almost shouted and then hung her head. "No," she repeated more quietly. "He was wearing…a partially unzipped jacket---it was a dark blue field jacket, and it looked like he was wearing the Con-Ed shirt with ID clipped to it---I couldn't see the whole card, though. It…it was partially hidden under his jacket. And he his pants were like a Con-Ed worker's. He had a clipboard, too, and…and tan work boots, so I let him like an idiot."

Goren, having noted the defensiveness and self-condemnation in her tone, was glad when Eames paused the tape to respond supportively. "You're not 'an idiot,' Elizabeth. You've done nothing wrong. The only person at fault is the man who attacked you. And you've already helped us with the description of his clothes." She resumed the recording. "Do you remember anything else about him?"

"He wasn't tall," answered Elizabeth. "He was just a few inches taller than me, and I'm 5-foot 2 and a half. So I guess he's 5' 6 or so. And, but he was hefty, like he worked out. And, and hewas white and had wavy blond hair…and…two eyes. I mean, he had a blue eye and a brown eye. And…a thin mustache." She shuddered before continuing.

"I led him towards the kitchen, 'cause the meter is in the basement, and the utility room is just for the washer and dryer," she said rapidly. "Suddenly, he…he shoved me against the…doorway---I hurt my head and fell and he crouched over me holding my wrist real tight, telling me that if I made any noise he'd…he'd hurt me worse." She stopped to blow her nose.

"He forced me upstairs," Elizabeth went on quietly, tears leaking from closed eyes. "Then, he, he turned me around in front of Grandma's bed and punched me in the stomach, and he started hitting me all over and that's when…that's when he…he…took…my…clothes…off." By now her forearms were crossed over her chest, her hands clutching at her shoulders.

Leaning against the wall, Bobby frowned and closed his eyes momentarily before he remembered that he had to observe Elizabeth's body language.

"Elizabeth, do you want to take a break?" Eames asked compassionately.

"N…no. I want this over with," the teen replied tearfully. She composed herself again, crossing her legs and gripping her upper right arm before continuing.

"I was hurting as it was, but he made me lay…he pinned my arms above my head…while…he…forced…himself…in me." She let out a sob. "He took my _virginity_! And he wasn't done! He…turned me on my stomach…and then he…he…he committed _sodomy_! I _hated_ it!" She turned to look at Goren. "I _hated_ it!"

"Yes, honey, we know you did," he said sympathetically. He noticed how she became calmer after he spoke.

Turning back to Eames, she said with relief, "When he was through, he left without saying anything."

Nodding, Eames asked slowly, "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"No." The response was as quick as it was brief.

After noting the time Eames terminated the interview and turned off the recorder.

"Thank you, honey," she said to the sniffling girl, "you did well."

"Really? Is it enough?"

'_Is it enough?'_ Goren repeated in his mind.

"Yes, but if you recall anything else---"Alex began.

"No. Nothing." The teen shook her head vigorously.

Bobby watched as Elizabeth sighed heavily, relaxing visibly. She leaned back with her hands resting on the tissue box on her lap. She bowed her head for a few long moments, and then lifted it slowly.

"Is my mom here?" she asked.

"Yes," Eames answered and waited for the girl's response. She didn't want the teen to feel that she was obligated to see Kathy if she wasn't up to it.

"Can you please get her for me? Just her, no one else," Elizabeth said softly.

"Of course," Alex said. Then, handing the girl a card, she continued with a previous thought. "Just in case you do remember something more, contact me."

"Well," Eames said in the hallway, after they'd sent Officer Keller back inside, "now all we have to do is speak to Mrs. Stabler, give her our cards, exit out the back, and head to the crime scene."

"And then the rest of the work begins," Bobby said thoughtfully. '_Is it enough?'_


	5. Chapter 5

Belated author's note: the rape occurred on Friday, February 28, 2008

**Maynard Residence, Glen Oaks, 6PM**

There were still police vehicles in front of Colleen Maynard's home when Detectives Eames and Goren arrived. By now it was dark and considerably colder than it was earlier. Thus, there were no spectators on the sidewalks, though the duo could make out some faces watching from nearby house windows.

"What do you have?" Eames asked the uniform who greeted them, Sergeant Lewis Wright. Earlier, he and his partner had been the first unit to respond to Riche's call for backup and had been at the crime scene since then. 

"What we've found seems to match with the girl's story," replied Wright, "which is to be expected, of course." He led the duo towards the entrance to the kitchen. "This stain on the wall here, right before you walk in---CSU says that's where she put her hand when he slammed her head here---" He pointed to a smudge on the inside of the doorway. "She obviously used her right hand for the cookie dough and her left hand to open and close the front door for the creep." The tall, graying African-American sighed and shook his head. "Poor kid---thought it was just another service worker."

"A mistake she's kicked herself for," sighed Eames, remembering Elizabeth's self-reproaching words. 

Next, Wright took them through the kitchen---a large mixing bowl, measuring cups, various spoons, and assorted ingredients occupied counters---and into the utility room. There, a crime scene investigator was packing his equipment. "I'm all done here," he said. "We have several different prints. We'll run 'em, and let you know ASAP."

"Well, we also found this back door opened, which conforms to what she told Riche: she'd run out of the back door after---afterwards," Wright said. Then he pointed to a basket of clothes. "That's where she got the housecoat she was wearing."

"Her…regular clothes were bagged upstairs in the master bedroom---"began the CSU man.

"Let's go, then, unless there's something else here," said Goren.

Upstairs, a female crime scene investigator showed the detectives the now-stripped bed. "We found semen and dark hairs on the bed spread. But we also foundstrands ofblond hair on the pillow case," she said. "A couple were long, but a few were shorter. Needless to say, both sets were bagged separately."

"And you also took the other bed clothes for testing, just in case," Eames put in, nodding approvingly. "I think we'll find that the perp forgot to dye his short hairs."

Squinting, Goren pointed at the head of the bed. "Why's that picture frame there?"

"That's for you to find out," replied the investigator, shrugging. "It was right next to the pillow. It's a portrait of the poor girl's grandmother, I assume." She gave Goren her digital camera, saying, "Move back about eight frames."

"Umm-hmm," the tall detective said as he looked at the pictures. "If this is a serial rapist, and if this perp isn't in the system, this will be part of a bread crumb trail, hopefully."

**Hillside Hospital, 6:10PM**

With Fin and Olivia following him, Elliot dashed down the hallway to the private waiting area. Coming to an abrupt halt, he quickly looked back and forth between Riche and Colleen demanding: "Where's my daughter! Where's my wife! How is Elizabeth! Is Kathy with her---! "

"Easy---listen, Elliot, listen!" Sgt. Riche gripped the other officer's biceps. "Elizabeth's with your wife in an exam room"---Elliot flinched at the words "exam room"---"and Dr. Peck says she hasn't been seriously injured. Now I know you want to go to your daughter, but you're not gonna be any use to her---or yourself for that matter---until you _calm down_. This is not the time or place for anger."

Actually, Elliot really wasn't angry---yet. His emotional upset came from sorrow for his daughter and anxiety about her well-being. After getting through the initial shock, he had wanted to get to her side and do everything in his power to comfort her. Now that he was here---

_He's right. I've got to pull it together! My baby needs my support more than she ever has! And a mistake now could really hurt her, and she's been through enough---_

Drawing on every scintilla of his Marine-honed discipline, Stabler managed to push his surging emotions down to a manageable level. Realizing suddenly that he was holding Riche's shirt, he released the officer, who did likewise when Elliot's hands had fallen to his sides. Collecting his thoughts, he asked: "Who was that doctor?"

"Excuse me, officer, but is this the father?" Dr. Peck, having been privately paged, arrived as if on cue.

"I'm Elliot Stabler," the detective said quickly, then amended more calmly, "I'm Detective Elliot Stabler. You---treated my daughter?"

"Yes," the physician replied, her manner polite and professional. "Please come while I explain everything."

"Yes, uh, just one moment, please," Elliot replied. Turning to Fin and Olivia, he said in solemn gratitude: "Thanks. I…I can take it from here."

"Are you sure, El?" Olivia inquired, concerned.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"If you need _anything_ from any of us, day or night, don't hesitate," Fin declared compassionately.

"That means a lot. Thanks, Fin, Olivia." He turned to Riche. "Thanks for the talk."

"Don't mention it." The sergeant clapped him on the arm and watched him walk down the hall with Dr. Peck.

Several minutes later, after being duly informed regarding her physical/emotional status, Elliot was embracing the weeping teen inside the exam room, love and support reigning for the moment. "It's all right, honey; Daddy's here," he murmured. "You're safe now; he can't hurt you anymore." 

"B---but, what is he comes back---?"

_He better not come back! HE BETTER __NOT__ COME BACK! _But all Elliot said was: "Trust me, baby, he's not going to come back."

"And your daddy's speaking from years of experience, Liz," Kathy gently reminded.

Elizabeth lifted her head to look at Elliot. "Just in case, can---can Grandma stay with us overnight? Please?" 

"Of course she can," Elliot replied, nodding. _It's just as well. The place will be a crime scene for who-knows-how-long tonight anyway._

For full minute Elizabeth remained standing her father's embrace. Her head rested on his shoulder; her back sensed her mother's gentle touch. Finally, she said softly and unequivocally: "I want to go home now."

"The doctor has to discharge you, sweetie," Kathy said.

"Why don't I go ask her when you can leave?" her father asked. "I won't be long, OK?"

After her silent nod, Elliot kissed his daughter and left the room. Once outside, he quickly returned to the waiting area. There Riche, Keller, and Colleen stood talking. "What is it?" the elder woman asked, concerned with the hard expression on her son-in-law's face.

"First, you're welcome to spend the night at our house. There's no telling how long the…the investigators will spend there," Elliot said, suddenly feeling uneasy about being on the other side of a crime.

"Thank you, Elliot," sighed Mrs. Maynard. "I've been wondering about that."

"Has Kathy…do the other kids know?" Stabler asked slowly.

"Yes," Colleen replied softly.

"Why don't you go back to the house now, then? Tell them that their sister…isn't seriously hurt, but for tonight she'll need her space, and we'll be home shortly." Elliot hoped that he didn't sound too casual.

"Yes, Elliot, I can do that," Mrs. Maynard moved to put on her coat. "And thank you again."

Stabler waited until his mother-in-law had departed before turning to the two uniforms. "Who arethe lead detectives?" he almost demanded.

"Your wife has their cards," replied Riche soberly.

"I didn't ask you what my wife has; I want to know their names!"

"Your wife has their cards," repeated Riche soberly. 

His jaw hardening, Elliot abruptly turned and left to have Dr. Peck paged.


	6. Chapter 6

**Stabler residence, Glen Oaks, Queens**

Upon arriving home from the hospital, Elizabeth wasted no time. Inside the house, she hastily bypassed her grandmother's offered embrace ("Just let her go, Ma," Kathy said, misty-eyed.) and ran upstairs to the bathroom. Closing and locking the door, the teen tore out of the donated clothes and quickly stepped into the bathtub. Turning on a hot shower, she worked furiously with the back brush and soap. She scrubbed everywhere that could be reached, and then she gave particular attention to her pelvis, the inside of her thighs, her buttocks, and her neck.

_I'm hurting the bruises worse, but __I don't care__! I have to be clean, I have to be clean, __I have to be clean!_

Working on her neck, she remembered the sickening feel of lips against her skin and rubbed harder. Then she began heaving. Suddenly, she dropped to her knees, cupped her hands, and vomited…

Meanwhile, downstairs, Elliot was chairing a most somber family meeting in the kitchen. Sitting at the table, he looked around at his other children: red-eyed Maureen, bleary-eyed Kathleen, sullen-faced Dickie, and, in his grandmother's arms, placid Eli, who yawn intermittently. As Kathy stood behind him, her hand resting on his shoulder, Elliot began.

"We all know what's happened to Elizabeth," he said softly and seriously. "Upsetting…upsetting as it is, she's the one who needs help. You can start by giving her some space tonight. She needs to…start coping with--with what happened, and obviously she's not ready to…she doesn't want to talk right now."

_Why is this so hard to do? I've given this talk with the vics' families every--_

"Dad," Kathleen broke into his thoughts. "I share a room with her; what should I do?"

"When you go up, show her extra consideration," instructed Stabler. "If she's asleep, of course let her. If she's not sleep, then go about your business unless she wants to talk. If so, listen, and, depending on the situation, give her comfort and support or get me or your mother."

"All right, Dad," Kathleen said, nodding.

"Another thing," Elliot added. "She…she may have nightmares. If that happens…get your mother--unless she tells you not to."

"But why wouldn't she want Mom?" The young woman frowned.

"Some…people"--Elliot was about to say 'victims'--upon waking realize it's a dream, and, well, they manage, somehow, to calm themselves from there. If she feels that way, then, don't go against her wishes."

"I understand," Kathleen said, nodding.

"What happens tomorrow? What about church Sunday? Is she going to school Monday? What do I tell our friends?" Dickie almost demanded sourly.

Rolling his eyes, Elliot sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. _I haven't even __thought__ of any of those issues! _But he managed: "Tomorrow you can separately offer support, she doesn't have to go to Mass if she's not up to it, and--and your mother and I will discuss school Sunday night." Abruptly he rose and went to the refrigerator to get a beer.

"Dickie," he heard his wife instruct, "if anyone asks, just say that she isn't up to going to school. If pressed for details, just say that she doesn't want you to give any details. Change the subject if you have to. And that goes for the rest of you."

_Thanks, Kathy._

**The 16****th**** Precinct, some time later**

Having returned from Mercy Hospital, Detective Lake was updating Captain Cragen when Munch, Fin, and Benson solemnly entered the bullpen. The two men watched grimly as the officers silently shed their coats and moved to their desks. Only John and Olivia sat down; Fin grabbed his mug and went to the coffee pot.

"I'm gonna be up anyway," he remarked dryly.

"I want to speak to all four of you," Cragen ordered quietly.

With his detectives following, Don entered his office. Standing behind his desk, he paused to organize his thoughts. Then he addressed his officers.

"It's always hardest when it's one of our own," Cragen said, his tone steady despite his distress expression. "And it doesn't get any easier when the--_person_ is a child. Now, I think I speak for everyone when I say that I wish I _could_ hunt down that _sick scum_"--Cragen's teeth were clenched now--"and perp-walk him in shackles in front of every cop and camera on his way to the lockup!" He paused while his officers nodded in agreement.

"But I can't," he continued more gently. "And you can't. _Major Case_ is handling it, and only _Major Case_. All other personnel are to _stay out of it, _unless assistance is requested by the investigating detectives.The brass doesn't want vigilante justice or false arrests--especially ones that result in inmate injuries and/or deaths. Does everybody understand?"

"Yes, sir," they responded soberly, with Munch adding: "Who are these 'investigating detectives?'"

"Captain Ross didn't say," Cragen answered.

_And of course you didn't ask_, John thought. But he only nodded in response.

"Now," the captain continued, "since Elliot won't be here for a while, there will be some temporary changes. Benson, you and Munch will be working together. Fin, I handed Lake a case--he'll fill you in. Olivia, I need to speak to you and John."

After the door was closed by the departing detectives, Cragen asked with concern: "How are they holding up?"

Since he had been parking the car, John turned to Olivia, who responded: "Elliot was upset initially, of course, but he managed to calm down before he went to see Elizabeth."

"How was Kathy?"

"She was with her daughter when we arrive. According to Sergeant Riche--a uniform in the waiting area--she wasn't badly injured."

"Well, that's one plus," Don remarked, relaxing slightly. "Although you can't become involved with the case, why don't you check on your partner tomorrow, Olivia, just to see how he's doing, and let him know everyone's pulling for him and his family?

"I'll do just that," she assured him.

"You know, cap," Munch said, "for something like this, only the best of Major Case is going to be working this."

"I would think so, why?" Don asked.

"If the Major Case Squad's example of the best is the recently-re-stabilized Detective Robert Goren…?"

"Then Detective Goren has recovered enough to return to work," Benson cut in a bit testily, while Cragen nodded in stern agreement and approval.

Feeling somewhat sheepish, Munch said quickly, "OK, all right, that's fine. Shall we finish our DD5's before we begin our new case assignments?"

**One Police Plaza, 10:00PM**

"Well, what do you two have so far?" Captain Ross wanted to know when Eames and Goren sat across from his desk.

"The perp is a male Caucasian with a muscular build, approximately 5' 6", with short wavy blond hair, thin mustache, eye colors blue and brown," replied Eames.

"Hmm." The captain assumed a thoughtful pose. "There can't be too many guys with opposing eye colors."

"Unless he's wearing color contacts, and one fell out," Goren put in. "We had CSU check for that possibility. They came up negative, which _would_ bolster the theory that he has different eye pigments…"

"'But'?" prompted his superior

"But Crime Scene also found short blond hairs _and_ dark hairs," Bobby finished. "Until the unit's report is done, we have the possibility that he's either wearing a disguise, he has dyed his dark hair, _or_ he's dyed his hair and is wearing colored contacts."

"That's why we told CSU that we want those results last week," Alex said firmly.

Nodding, Ross demanded: "Any witnesses?"

"Canvass started before we arrived," Eames sighed, "with negative results."

The captain sat in silent thought for a few moments before snapping his fingers. "Did I hear either of you say how old this guy is?"

"She didn't say, and she wasn't up for any additional questions," Goren summarized. _ 'Is it enough?'_

"Well, then, you'll know what to do tomorrow," Ross said dourly. "Was Con-Ed checked, just to cover all bases?"

"Yes," Goren answered. "Nobody was reading in Glen Oaks today."

"Well, then until morning comes and/or CSU calls, you two are going start digging through the records, and see if you can find our perp and/or his MO," ordered the captain.

"Yes sir," Alex said as she and Bobby rose.

"And while you're doing that," Ross added, "I'll call in some assistance." _The sooner this guy's off the street, the less likely Detective Stabler will go searching for this sleaze._


	7. Chapter 7

Stabler Residence, 11:30PM

**Stabler Residence, 11:30PM**

A brooding Elliot Stabler paced in the living room, holding a dozing Eli on his shoulder while recalling further dismal events. First, Elizabeth had, through Kathy, refused her favorite dinner, mushroom and sausage pizza. Second, whenever he'd gone to use the bathroom, he had seen signs of a recent shower. Finally, after mechanically eating supper and sitting around the living room and kitchen staring at various walls (except when Eli required attention), everybody, one by one, had gone to bed, though Elliot doubted that anyone was actually sleeping.

_Especially Elizabeth--insomnia's not uncommon after a rape--_

Elliot grimaced, fighting to stay calm lest he wake Eli. _I've got to hold it together! I have to help Elizabeth get through this! _But his muscles tensed with a building internal furor--

After carefully laying his son in the nearby bassinet, Elliot hurried into the kitchen and snatched a beer from the refrigerator. But as he hastily swallowed, he couldn't stop his thoughts of frustration: _My child was violated by some freakin' scrum of a pervert, and I wasn't there to stop him!!_ _My daughter, my baby Elizabeth is hurting in the worse possible way, and I can't take away her pain! _With an anguished sigh, Elliot sat down at the kitchen table, set his bottle on the table and buried his face in his hands.

_This just isn't right! I've busted who-knows-how-many molesters, rapists and killers, but I can't protect my own daughter! What kind of freakin' father am I?!_

"A failure!!" He almost heard his father's voice in the reflexive flashback.

"Shut up. Shut _up_," he whispered through clenched teeth. He put the bottle to his lips and drained it. Then, after hastily disposing the container in the recycling basket, he was opening the refrigerator to take another beer when he heard the baby cry. Grabbing a different bottle this time, he nuked it for 15 seconds before taking it to his youngest.

_At least I can do __this__ right_, he thought acerbically as Eli contentedly took his nourishment.

Meanwhile, having completed her showers and changed into soft red and blue pajamas, Elizabeth lay in bed curled in a tight fetal position, her back against the wall. In the midst of her sleeplessness were a number of torturing concerns. First, where were her glasses? She had a spare pair, but for some reason the loss seemed very important to her.

Her second worry was more troubling. She should have called the hospital when she had vomited less than two hours after taking the 'morning after' pill--Dr. Peck had said so when explaining the aftercare instructions. But having made the loathsome choice before, she wasn't up to making it again. That evening she had taken a hard journey down a very dark passage that she didn't wish to travel again--ever. She had been subjected to physical abuse, sexual violations, invasive examinations, and difficult questions. Now she just wanted to stay home and not think about the horrible events of the day. She didn't want to go back to the hospital--where she had gone because she had been _raped_--and tell personnel that she had been _raped_--to get another disapproved pill because she had been _raped_--

_Nooo!! No! _She pressed clenched fists against her tightly closed eyes. _No more doctors, no more hospitals, no more exams, no more doctors, no more hospitals, no more tests, no more no more no more no more--_

She didn't try to stop the tears that leaked from her eyes. She just kept as quiet as possible so that Kathleen wouldn't come up from the lower bunk and comfort her. For the moment, Elizabeth didn't want to be touched for any reason.

Meanwhile, at One Police Plaza, Detective Michael Logan and his partner, Detective Nola Falacci, having been briefed by Captain Ross, joined Goren in the bullpen.

"So, do you have any leads on this creep so far?" asked Falacci, who was the mother of three.

"Well, Alex found a case in Brooklyn about six months ago," Goren replied, standing up. "She's getting the full report faxed in."

"What happened?" Logan wanted to know.

"A sixteen-year-old girl was assaulted in her foster mother's apartment," Goren answered. "The perp was a so-called repairman _supposedly_ sent by the landlord. He was describe to have been in his twenties, around five foot six, muscular build, one blue eye, one brown eye, but he had short wavy _dark_ hair."

"So he could have dyed it this time," Nola said crisply.

"DNA will tell us for sure," Goren said.

Just then, Eames returned with a folder of faxed information. After greeting Logan and Falacci, she said: "I just got off the phone with the lab. They say that they should be able to give us all of their findings--including the two cases' DNA comparison--by morning."

"Then I guess they're going overtime with this," said Logan. "Good--if he is our guy."

"Seems like a likely suspect," Alex said, handing Michael the folder. "In addition to the description, the MO's are similar, as are the victims in terms of age and gender."

Bobby looked pensive. "How old is the foster mother?" he inquired.

Logan leafed through several papers. "She's 63, why?"

"Elizabeth Stabler was attacked in her _grandmother's_ home," answered Goren. "And she said that the man was 'surprised' to see her." He snapped his fingers and asked quickly: "Does the crime scene information have anything about the foster mother's picture?"

Logan raised a puzzled eyebrow but put the folder on Eame's desk to search for C.S.U. results, while Falacci said: "What's that all about?"

"A photo portrait of Mrs. Maynard was found next to the pillow on the bed," explained the tall detective. "It could be a signature--"

"Got it!" Logan cut in, looking at a paper. "Except the picture frame was found broken on the floor _beside_ the bed. But fingerprints and an impression on the opposite wall suggested that the picture was _thrown_."

"Whose prints?" Bobby inquired.

Reading more, Logan replied, "The vic's, Veronica Robinson."

"Then she must have picked it up from its place next to the pillow and thrown it against the wall!" concluded Falacci.

"If you're all standing around, that means you've made some progress." Captain Ross was moving towards them.

After they had apprised him, he said, "It's possible that we have someone--who's definitely _not_ wearing color contacts--targeting elderly women but taking the _opportunity_ to assault teenage girls. For tonight, research rapes involving teen girls as well as those with elderly female victims. Tomorrow Eames and Goren will talk to Miss Stabler again--ask her about the guy's age and any other details that she can remember. Logan and Falacci will ask Miss Robinson to confirm the position of the picture before it was thrown. We don't want a defense attorney to have a chance at any acquittals."

"Yes, sir," said Nola, while the others nodded.

"And remember, everybody: don't accept any offers for "help," and don't give any information out to anyone, especially Elliot Stabler!"

.**  
**


	8. Chapter 8

The Stabler Residence, 6AM

**The Stabler Residence, 6AM**

Rising out of bed, Kathy put on her robe and left her room to go downstairs. En route she resisted the maternal urge to look in on her daughter for fear of waking her from a possibly light sleep. _I can talk to her later, after she wakes up. In the meantime, she deserves all the rest she can get._

Downstairs she found her husband already awake and feeding Eli. "I spent the night on the couch," he said, turning to accept a cheek kiss.

Catching a whiff of alcohol on his breath as he spoke, she realized that he had been recently drinking. "Want me to take over so you can get some sleep?" Her tone betrayed nothing, but he wasn't fooled.

"I'm not drunk, Kathy," grumbled Elliot. But he handed her the feeding spoon, adding, "In fact, I've been making a few plans." He headed towards the coffee maker on the counter.

"What kind of plans?" She kept her eyes on her hungry son.

"First, I'm going to take some to take some time off," he said as he began making java. "I'm going to be needed here, and besides, there's no way I can work SVU now."

'_Now?' 'Now' as in the present or 'now' meaning 'from now on?' _But she only nodded. "I think that's a wise decision."

"Second, Elizabeth needs to be put into therapy," he continued with quiet urgency.

Concerned by his tone, Kathy said: "I agree that she needs to see someone, but just remember, you can't force her--"

"Honey, I know what I'm doing," Elliot cut in defensively. "After all, this is what I do--"

He stopped abruptly, putting a hand to his forehead while closing his eyes tightly. For several long minutes he stayed in that pose. Then he sighed heavily, mumbled something about needing a shower, and hurried upstairs.

**Meanwhile, at One Police Plaza…**

"All right, everyone, what do we have?" asked Captain Ross his team.

"Well," said Detective Eames, gesturing at a portable blackboard, "thanks to the M.E.'s initial results, we know that the man who raped Elizabeth Stabler also attacked young Ms. Robinson--DNA matches, along with the M.O. And we have two rapes of elderly women that have the same M.O. and perp description as the others."

"Except for the hair, of course," Detective Goren put in. "He kept it dark until now. And he was clean-shaven for the first two rapes. Other than that, it's pretty much the same: he masquerades as a repairperson or meter reader to gain admittance, overpowers the female, and then rapes and sodomizes her in her bed."

"Any DNA evidence?" asked the captain, looking at the written and/or attached information studiously.

"No," Eames admitted. "The first woman, Alma DuBois, didn't think anyone would believe that an elderly woman could be raped, so she showered and laundered her sheets. Her friends later convinced her to report it. And the other vic, Belinda Perkins, was a virtual prisoner of her abusive son. When he came home and found his mother in her bedroom, he apparently tried to save his own skin and had her bath while he cleaned up the crime scene." She stopped and shook her head with disgust.

"But later she had a fainting spell that he couldn't wake her from," Logan said, "so he had to take her to the ER. Not surprisingly signs of abuse were discovered along with evidence of rape."

"Hmm." Ross moved closer to the board. "Ms. DuBois lives in Brooklyn, and Ms. Perkins lives in Staten Island."

"Well, actually, Ms. Perkins lives in Hoboken with her niece," explained Falacci. "And before you ask, young Ms. Robinson was transferred from Harlem to Staten Island."

"I wonder," Captain Ross said, "if he's after elderly victims, how did he know where to find them? Obviously, they weren't all in senior housing, so he couldn't expect to find them at their residences unless he had some type of prior knowledge."

Falacci put in, "According to her statement, the perp was 'surprised' to see Elizabeth Stabler, so he _must_ have been expecting her grandmother."

Goren snapped his fingers. "If they're all members of the same senior organization, or subscribe to the same senior magazine or newsletter, something that keeps records of names and addresses, we could have a lead to the rapist!"

"You can ask them when you see them," Ross said. "Falacci, Logan--after you visit Ms. Robinson, you go see Ms. Perkins and ask her if she has affiliation with any organizations or subscriptions to materials related to seniors. Oh, and while you're in Staten Island, see if the young lady remembers if the perp asked for her foster mother before she let him in."

"Right," Mike said while his partner nodded.

"Goren, Eames," Ross continued, "asks Ms. DuBois about her group affiliations and subscriptions and does the same with Mrs. Maynard."

"We're on it," Alex replied.

"And, don't forget," the captain added more quietly, "you need to speak to Elizabeth Stabler again. Ask her about the guy's approximate age."

"Yes, sir," Goren said, nodding. _'Is it enough?'_

As they all began gathering notebooks and folders, Eames said: "It's still early, so we all have time for breakfast. Let's say we go for pancakes?"

Logan amiably opened his mouth, but Falacci said briskly: "Thanks, but we have to get over to Outer Mongolia before the weekend rush starts."

"And I remember a diner there that makes a great sausage omelet," her partner said pointedly.

"Whatever, just as long as we get there ASAP," Nola replied, pulling on her coat. "The sooner we talk to the vics, the sooner we can nail this perv."

**The Stabler Residence, 8:45**

Elizabeth watched from her bedroom window as Maureen and Colleen drove away in Kathy's car. _Now I can go downstairs and have breakfast. Not that I'm hungry, but I can't stand these hunger pangs, and I'm still uncomfortable enough as it is. _So the sweat suit-clad girl carefully left her bedroom.

"Hey" was the only word she said to the rest of the family when she entered the kitchen. Hastily she cobbled together a breakfast sandwich with an unheated bagel, lukewarm scrambled eggs, and the last three pieces of bacon. Sitting at the table, she ate quickly, hardly noticing Kathy placing a plate and napkin before her.

**The Maynard Residence, 9:30**

While Maureen baked in the kitchen, Colleen served Goren and Eames coffee in the living room.

"I know it seems trite, but I want to keep that animal from ruining _everything_," she declared quietly. "Those cookies are to help raise money for the church, and I _won't_ let him hurt the parish." She sighed sadly as she picked stirred her own mug. "But I can't do anything for Elizabeth, except pray."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," Eames said supportively. "Plus, there's something else you can do."

"What is it?" Colleen was quick to help.

"If you're a member of any senior organizations or subscribe to any senior-orientated periodicals--"

"Yes! It's a newsletter: _Golden Age Gazette_!" the older woman exclaimed. "I've had a subscription since I turned 55--it was a birthday present from my goddaughter."

"No offense intended, Mrs. Maynard, but how long ago was that?" inquired Goren politely. _That's one._


	9. Chapter 9

**The Stabler Residence, 9:35AM**

Olivia took a few minutes to collect her thoughts before she exited her car to begin walking to the front door. Having worked with Elliot for so long, she had come to care about his family. It stabbed her heart knowing that Elizabeth, a child she had watch grow into a teen, had been subjected to ruthless abuse that put mature adults through deep mental stress.

Furthermore, she was concerned about Elliot. Early in their partnership she had seen his near obsessive drive to protect his family from all threats, real or perceived. And now that his worse fears were realized, how would he cope? Not well, she feared.

Meanwhile, peeking down from her bedroom window, Elizabeth felt a wave of apprehension_. Please don't be coming to see me, please don't be coming to see me, please don't be coming to see me, please please please PLEASE! _She felt too ashamed to face Olivia, whom she admired as the fearless and capable partner who assisted and protected her father on the job. _She'd never get herself in my position. _Sighing and hanging her head, the teen moved away from the window before she could be seen.

Elliot was channel surfing in the living room when he heard the knock. Anticipating Detectives Eames and Goren, he quickly went to the front door. Opening it, he hid his disappointment and greeted his friend politely, though solemnly.

"Hello, Liv," he said.

"Hey, El," she replied. "I came to see--we're all concerned." That was all she could get out.

"Thanks," he said softly. "That means a lot." He stepped outside, sliding his hands into his jeans' pockets for warmth. "Listen, I'm--I'm going to be taking some time off."

"I understand," she responded. Then she added supportively: "_We_ understand."

He gave nod. "Tell everyone thank you, and…I'll be around to clean out my desk."

She raised her eyebrows abruptly. _Elliot, just how much time are you going to take?!_ But she only said: "Do whatever you think is best, El."

After a fraternal embrace, they parted: he to his house, she to her car.

**The Sikes Residence, Staten Island**

Meanwhile, sixteen-year-old Veronica Robinson sat on an ottoman in her new foster family's living room. Facing her on a couch were Falacci and Logan. Mr. Sikes pretended to be busy in the kitchen so that his ward would feel free to speak frankly.

"You got a lead?" Veronica asked hopefully.

"Yes, but we need to ask you a couple of questions to pursue it," Logan replied.

"What more can I tell you? I told those other officers everything." The girl frowned, perplexed.

"Well, to start: who threw the picture?" Logan was gentle in his inquiry.

The girl sighed, hanging her head. "I did," she said soft and yet dourly, "'cause that freakin' pervert made me _so_ mad!!" She looked up angrily before continuing. "After…after what he did, social services took me away from the best home I've had! Case worker said that I'm supposed to 'heal better in a fresh setting.'" The teen ran a hand across her face at eye level.

"Veronica, we're doing everything we can to catch that man so he can pay for what he's done," declared Nola.

Nodding in agreement, Logan then asked: "Do you remember where the picture was before you threw it?"

"Well, it was on the nightstand before he put on the pillow--right next to my head," the girl responded. "Don't know what _that_ was all about."

"OK, now when you answered the door, did he seem surprised to see you?" Mike went on.

The girl paused for a few seconds before answering slowly. "He something like, 'Is this the Banks residence?' or 'Does Mrs. Banks live here?' It was like he wasn't sure he was at the right place. So I told that Mrs. Banks wasn't home, and…well, you know." Looking away, she sighed as if thinking regretfully of her past actions.

"This isn't your fault, Veronica," Mike firmly but gently stated. "This is the rapist's fault alone, and thanks to your information, we're closer to finding him." He and Falacci, who was still writing in her notepad, stood to leave. "Thank you. If you can remember anything else, contact me at this number." He gave the girl one of his cards.

"Oh, one last thing," Falacci said suddenly. "Our records show that Mrs. Banks is fifty-eight years old. Did she belong to any organizations for seniors, or did she subscribe to any senior publications, such as magazines or newsletters?"

"Just the _Golden Age Gazette_. She said that everything else was too depressing, too dirty, or just didn't interest her. Why?"

While Logan and Falacci were in Staten Island, Eames and Goren continued their part of the investigation. A few minutes after Benson's departure, the two detectives pulled up in front of the Stabler residence. Eames turned to her partner with concern.

"Are you ready for this? You know how young victim's fathers can be, and I understand that Stabler's an ex-Marine," she said.

"When I was stationed in Germany, some of us army guys had a few 'sparring sessions' with some of the Marines. I know enough," Goren answered reassuringly. "Still, I hope I won't have to use it."

Eames nodded in agreement before they exited the sedan.


	10. Chapter 10

Elliot seemed almost glad to see Goren and Eames when he answered the bell

Elliot seemed almost glad to see Goren and Eames when he answered the bell. "Come in, please," he said, pushing the door open wider.

_The calm before the storm_, Eames thought as she and her partner entered the living room.

"First, we're working overtime to nail this monster," Bobby said determinedly. "Finding him is our top priority."

"Good!" Elliot responded promptly. "What do you have so far?"

"We're not at liberty to say," Eames answered honestly. Then, to preclude a clash, she immediately continued: "We need to ask Elizabeth a few questions."

"I'll see if she's awake," Elliot said, polite but frowning. He obviously didn't like being kept out of the loop.

"I notice that it's quiet," Goren commented. "It's great that she's receiving support from her family."

"Yes, she is," Stabler replied, "though right now it's just me, my wife, and our baby at home with Elizabeth right now--you just missed two of my kids by about a minute, in fact. Excuse me."

When he reached upstairs, Eames remarked confidentially: "I'm glad Mrs. Stabler's here."

"You know that doesn't always keep 'em from exploding," her partner replied.

"I know. I just want Elizabeth to have one calm parent to soothe her if--"Alex stopped as Elliot descended the stairs.

"She awake and willing to talk," he said. "Just take it easy on her, _please_." He spread his hands out with the last word.

"We will," Eames promised, and with that Elliot led the way up the flight of stairs.

"Wha--what do you need?" Elizabeth asked nervously when the detectives were in her room. She was seated on the lower bunk, facing Alex, who was sitting on the chair for the girls' desk. Goren remained standing near the door, partially to act as observer but also because he knew that Elliot was standing in the hallway.

"First, do you remember approximately how old the man was?" Detective Eames asked gently.

"Ah, well, uhm, he was young," the girl replied slowly, pressing her knees together and tightly clasping her hands on her lap. "Twenty-something."

"All right," the female detective said, writing down the information. "Is there anything else you remember?"

"Well--yes! My glasses fell off when he…tackled me. That's why I'm using these spares." She pointed towards her right eye. "They're identical to this pair."

"Anything else?" Goren inquired as his partner wrote.

There was a long pause while she looked indecisively towards the window. Then she faced the detectives while drawing her feet up on the bed and hugged her knees. Her eyes were wide, almost trance-like, behind her lenses, but she kept looking back and forth at Bobby and Alex.

_She's definitely holding something else back. But yet she seems to want to speak. _He assumed a puzzled manner as he inquired kindly: "Is there something you need to tell us, Elizabeth? Or are we being too hard on you?"

"N-n-no. No, it's not that," she said quickly. "'Too fresh.' He said…I was…'too fr-fr-fresh.'" She was rocking back and forth now.

"Honey, it's all right," Eames said soothingly, reaching out to hug the agitated teen.

"It's never gonna be 'all right, it's never gonna be 'all right,'" Elizabeth sobbed, her head on Alex's shoulder. Then, louder: "No! No! Nooo!"

"What are you _doing_?!" Elliot burst into the room pass Goren, teeth clenched. "Leave her _alone_!" He lunged at Eames, ignoring his daughter's protest: "No Daddy, please! Please!"

Fortunately, Bobby was able fall back on his training. In a feint, he touched Stabler's right shoulder and almost simultaneously sidestepped as the Marine veteran drove an elbow backwards. But the taller, stockier army veteran used the inertia to pull the arm and twist it behind Elliot's back while forcing him to the floor.

Kathy, who had been changing Eli in the master bedroom, was presently brought to the scene by all of the shouting. She immediately sized up the situation--her daughter's tearful pleas to Elliot, who was pined on the floor and cursing--and carefully made her way to her daughter. Tenderly embracing the teen, she turned then turned her attention to her husband, who ceased his raging at her stern mien.

"Elliot," she said quietly and yet firmly, "I don't know what was happening in here, but it's obvious that you didn't make it easier for anyone, especially Elizabeth. I know you want to protect her now more than ever, and I know that you hate yourself for being unable to have done so before. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're taking out your frustration on the very people who are trying to help our child--whom you're further upsetting! Now, when you do get up, you need to go into our bedroom and _stay there_ until you can function calmly. Can you do that?"

His face flushing with humiliation, he gave a scowling but sincere nod.

Feeling the man's muscles relax, Goren gradually rose, releasing Elliot. He maintained steady eye contact as the latter slowly exited the room, rubbing his arm. Then Bobby furtively moved into the hallway to watch the master bedroom door close with a reverberating slam.

**The 16****th**** Precinct, 9:45PM**

"He really said that?!" Fin was almost incredulous.

Sighing, Olivia nodded sadly.

"Well, what do you expect?" Munch said quietly, shrugging. "He barely kept his head when the crimes affected vics who merely _reminded_ him of his family. Now that--how's he going to control himself _now?_"

"Look, _I_ kinda figured he'd be chomping at the bit to get 'justice for all', and the captain would have to make him transfer," Fin explained. "I guess he's actually holding it together."

"Yeah, at least for now," Chester said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"And what's that suppose to mean?" Fin gave his partner an inquiring look.

"Well, I'm not saying he's going to do," Lake replied, stirring in sugar, "but if--and I do mean_ if_--Elliot looks at the police report, he--"

"He's not going to do that!" Olivia broke in loudly. "Why would he want to do that?"

"Cop instincts kicking in," the younger man answered, walking across the room. "Remember when that bomb was sent here in a pizza box? Fin went looking for answers, and I used my medically required 'stay-up' time to do some sleuthing of my own. Now, I'm not saying Elliot _won't_ be too involved with his daughter's recovery to think about checking out the details, but…well, you guys have known him longer than I have. What do you think?"

There was a long, troubled pause. The other three officers looked in different directions with uneasy expressions on their faces. Then, opening the door, Captain Cragen came out of his office, his face grave.

"Everyone, listen," he said, giving an acknowledging look to Olivia, "I just received a call from Captain Ross at One PP. According to Detective Eames, Elliot…overreacted badly during an interview with Elizabeth. Detective Goren had to use force to subdue him, and Kathy had to talk him down." He looked about at his officers as a hushed pall fell over the room.

Olivia was agape. When she could find her voice she managed, "What was happening?! Did Elizabeth call out to him, or--"

"I don't know." Captain Cragen was shaking his head. "Ross wouldn't elaborate. But he's very concerned about Elliot's state of mind and wants me to officially get him off duty immediately."

"That's not going to be a problem, Cap," Benson said somewhat reassuringly. "Elliot says that he's going to take a leave of absence." She decided not to add anything references to his plans to remove his personal items. She was unsure of his plans and knew that Stabler would give Cragen a complete explanation whenever he arrived.

"Well, that's one good thing," Don said, sighing. "Did he give you any details?"

"No." _Not really._

"I'll let Ross in on the development. In the meantime, as bad as things are for the Stablers, there are still other people that need our attention, now more than ever with the manpower shortage. Munch, get your partner up to speed on the Stephen's case. Fin, call the lab again, and let them know we're still expecting those results yesterday! Lake, try the Ruperts again, and if there's no answer, you and your partner get down there and canvass the neighbors!" With those words, he quickly returned to his office and closed the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Stabler residence, 12:45PM**

Elizabeth lay curled up on her bed, tears streaming from her closed eyes. Never had she felt so dejected. It was bad enough that she had been ruthlessly violated in body and mind. Now her parents downstairs were arguing because she had become so upset during her meeting with the detectives.

_Why couldn't I be braver?! Other women go on talk shows or write articles about their…rapes. But I can't even answer a simple question without crying! I'm crying __right __now__! Oh, I'm a bigger baby than Eli!_

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Kathy disdainfully watched her husband walk to the refrigerator. "Drinking isn't going to help her, Elliot," she said sharply.

Jerking and slamming drawers, he retorted: "I'm trying to make a sandwich; is that all right with you?!"

"So you're stress-eating now." She sighed exasperatedly, hands on her hips.

Grabbing a container of mustard, he turned to face her, closing the door with his foot. "I need to eat something before I go to Manhatten. I told you I was gonna take leave."

She was silent for a few minutes while he assembled his lunch. As he sat down to eat, she said calmly, "While you're gone, I'm going to call for a rape counselor for our daughter."

In response, he stopped chewing for a few seconds, but then he simply nodded and resumed eating.

Meanwhile, at One Police Plaza, the four detectives met to share information.

"Well, so far we know that the vics are either elderly women or substitutions for them," said Goren, writing on the huge dry board. "And they all subscribe to the same newsletter. Now, since the perp was expecting the _subscribers_ whenever he came knocking, I'd say we're looking for someone with access to a list." He turned to his colleagues after he finished writing 'LIST' followed by a long dash.

"I agree," Logan said as the others nodded with him. "But since Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. DuBois didn't buy their subscriptions from any salesperson, that's one less angle to look at."

"Well, I kind of figured that, too," Eames said. "Mrs. Maynard received her subscription as a gift from her goddaughter, who was turned onto the idea by a resident at the nursing home where she works. Meanwhile, Mrs. Banks, Veronica's foster mother, purchased her subscription online after reading a copy in her doctor's waiting room."

"Say, how did _your_ vics obtain their subscriptions?" Goren asked, gesturing to Falacci and Logan.

"Mrs. Perkins' son 'gave' it to her as a 'pacifier,' to quote her," Nola said. "And Mrs. DuBois' neighbor recommended to her, so she purchased a subscription by mail."

"OK, so much for the 'hacker theory,'" Bobby said, ready to move on. "But it definitely appears to be someone with access to subscriber information."

"But that could anyone in the publisher's subscription department, billing department, customer service department!" Mike exclaimed. "What do we do, ask if they have someone with one blue and one brown eye?!"

"If the company utilizes photo ID's, yes," replied Goren.

"There may be another option," Falacci said thoughtfully. "My cousin spent part of the '90's doing telephone surveys at night. His company's clients included publishers of newspapers and magazines who apparently wanted to know how to keep their readers happy."

"So why did they have 'em bothered at night?" Mike couldn't resist.

"Well, _some_ subscribers were apparently willing to give their opinions," replied his partner, smirking at the quip. "They were also willing to give their names and addresses for verification purposes."

"That's one reason I always hung up," sighed Eames. "I mean, how do you know who's legit and who's planning a robbery or scam?"

"Well, according to my cousin, the information is supposed to be kept confidential and used for marketing purposes only," Nola said. "Of course, if a sick perv is on the payroll…"

"Provided the company utilized telephone market researchers," Goren said, nodding. "Of course, there's only one way to find out." He moved to his desk to make a phone call.

**The 16****th**** Precinct, 1:50PM**

"Hello, Elliot," Captain Cragen greeted from the coffee pot in the bullpen.

Stabler, who had just entered the currently empty room, moved to soberly shake his superior's hand. "We need to talk," he monotoned.

Understanding, Don nodded and motioned his officer to follow him.

A minute later, seated behind a closed door, Cragen listened sympathetically as Elliot slowly said: "I need to take a leave of absence from the job, Cap. I haven't tapped into my vacation time yet, so…"

"Take as much time as needed, Elliot," Don said with a paternal nod. "And you and your family will be in everyone's thoughts and prayers."

"That means a lot, Captain," the detective said with gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you. But…but I need something else…" Elliot bowed his head and sighed.

Concerned, Cragen walked from behind his desk to sit beside his officer. "What is it, Elliot? Whatever it is, I'll pull whatever strings and call in every favor I have!"

"I…I want a transfer…to a desk job, preferably in Staten Island."


	12. Chapter 12

Cragen sat agape for a moment before recovering

Cragen sat agape for a moment before recovering. "Are you sure?" he asked gently, though he knew the answer.

Elliot nodded. "I…I had a hard enough time dealing with…this part of the job before--before now. I…can't trust myself to stay objective or keep control…" He looked up at the captain, sorrow in his misty blue eyes. "Please."

The older man sighed. As much as he didn't want to lose one of his best detectives, he couldn't deny the facts. Stabler _did_ have a tendency to take some of the cases personally, especially when they involved children. Obviously, his daughter's attack would only make it virtually impossible for him to stay professional. Furthermore, Cragen knew that rapes often took an emotional toll on marriage and/or families. The Stablers didn't need anymore harsh stresses in the months to come.

"I understand, Elliot," he began.

"No, no, you don't understand," Elliot broke in, shaking his head. "You don't understand anymore than I did before--"he struggled momentarily. Then he said rapidly: "Look, I need to box up my stuff, OK? Then I…I need the papers, all the right papers to do what I have to do." He stood up to leave.

Rising himself, Captain Cragen said, "Elliot, listen! There's help available for you, too. Don't be ashamed to take it…"

"I'm not ashamed of anything!" Stabler was suddenly angry. Then, as his superior stood startled, he regained control. "I'm sorry, Cap. I--I don't know where that came from…"

"Don't worry about it," Cragen said gently. "Just do what you have to do, and I'll see what I can find when you're ready."

**Intrepid Marketing Resources, Manhatten, 2:00PM**

"How can I help you, officers?" asked Byron Gilmore, the supervisor, shaking their hands in his office. "I hope one of our employees hasn't taken advantage of his or her position to commit a crime."

"I'm afraid that's exactly why we're here," Eames said soberly.

Any trace of pleasantness rapidly drained from Gilmore's face. "Whatever it is, you have our cooperation," he declared. "Confidentiality is something we take very seriously in this business, which as become very competitive due to the 'Do Not Call List.' Whether it's identity theft, burglary, whatever, we don't want anybody like that on our staff!"

Quickly taking his place behind his desk, he turned to a computer asking: Who do you have in mind?"

"Someone who worked for the Golden Age Ghezette survey--"

"About a year and a half ago, I remember," Gilmore broke in, typing rapidly. "It was one of the few that everyone wanted to do."

"Why's that?" Goren was curious.

"The elderly, especially those that live alone, tend to enjoy talking to someone about their interests and opinions," answered the supervisor. Apparently reaching the appropriate screen, he asked: "A male or a female?"

"A man in his twenties," Alex answered.

"Wait a minute, please." Gilmore took a small book out of his desk. "Never had to use the demographic classifier before."

"Ah, it sorts the employees by age, gender, the same things a market analyst uses," Bobby said, nodding.

"That's correct," he replied, leafing through the pages. "It was installed for this contingency. All right, here we go." Hitting a few keys, he continued. "Most of our workforce is female so--here we are! 12 possibilities."

"He's also a Caucasian," Eames informed.

Hitting buttons, Gilmore said slowly, "All right, that leaves us down to…three!"

"I notice that you and the receptionist aren't wearing photo ID's," Goren said. "How about the other employees?"

"No, but we do photocopy driver's licenses or other photo identification as part of a background check," the other man explained.

"Look for someone with a blue eye and a brown eye," Eames instructed.

After carefully inputting the proper commands, Gilmore said triumphantly: "His name is Patrick Edward Morgan!"

**The 16****th**** Precinct, 3:45PM**

"This is harassment! You know it is!" shouted the tall redhead as Munch and Benson ushered her into the bullpen. "This belongs in vice, I'm not a sex offender! I sell what my johns wanna buy!"

"Nobody pays for rape, lady," snapped Olivia, was too distracted to notice Elliot's bare desk or Munch's double take. So when he subsequently beckoned a female uniform to "assist Detective Benson," she assumed that their verbose perp had finally gotten to him. While she and the other women continued the trip to booking, John quietly moved towards their captain's office.

Cragen was writing at his desk when Munch rapped and entered. "Please tell me you've read her the Miranda rights," he said wearily as the door closed.

"Yes, but neither of us had the time or the inclination to shove them where she told us to," the sergeant replied caustically. He paused and added more gently: "In fact, I feel even less inclined now, since it looks like Elliot's…really gone."

Nodding, Don signed and laid his pen down. "How is Olivia taking it?" he inquired softly.

"She hasn't noticed yet, not with New York's Sweetheart raising Cain." John sat down in front of the desk. "This is going to be a shock--I mean, Olivia said that he was going to be out for a while. And Fin said that he had expected Elliot to come back swinging until you forced him into another unit, but…" He let out a heavy sigh and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

"At least, this way he won't be in a position to endanger someone else or himself," Captain Cragen said, hoping to reassure his detective.

"It still shouldn't have come to this," Munch said, frowning as he replaced his glasses. "You know that!"

Understanding, Don said firmly, "Major Case is looking for him, John, and when they find him--"

Sudden loud knocking interrupted. Even with the shades drawn, the captain knew who it was. "Come in, Olivia."

The door abruptly opened to reveal a bleary-eyed Detective Benson. For a few seconds she stood in the doorway. Then she moved to stand across from her superior. "What did he say?" she finally asked.

"Why don't you have a seat," John suggested compassionately.

Slowly she sat down beside her partner. "He's not coming back, is he?"

"It's for the best, Olivia," Cragen said softly.

Benson leaned back in her chair. After a long pause she finally spoke. "He did it. He did what a bullet, I.A.B., or a guy on PCP couldn't do."

Meanwhile, Elliot was returning home. He entered his house holding his box of belongings, which he intended to store in his bedroom closet. Noticing his wife sitting dejectedly on the sofa, he regretted their earlier quarrel and put down his container.

"Kathy?" he asked quietly, moving to face her. "What's the matter?"

She looked up at him with red and misty eyes. "She doesn't want to see anyone right now. She…she cried and carried on so much…" His wife began blinking rapidly.

Sitting down beside her, Elliot hid his own anguish to try to reassure Kathy. "It's only been one day," he said gently. "Just give her some more time, and--"

He was interrupted by Dickie's sudden and loudly profane entrance. Cursing like an arrogant drunk, he stomped into the room and slammed to door hard. Then he pounded towards the stairs, fists clenched and vocabulary saltier.

"Hey, hey, get over here, Mister!" Elliot rose from the sofa and waited while his son moved to stand before him. "Now what's with that?!"

Red-faced, Dickie explained respectively enough. "I was at the playground watching some of the guys playing a pick-up game of basketball, and this guy, Nick Sommers--he lives by Grandma--comes over with his cousin and asks: 'Did they find the guy that did your sister?'" A tear ran from the corner of his eye. "I say: 'How'd you know?' and he says the cops told him and his folks when they went _door-to-door_--so that means everybody knows, Dad! _Everybody knows!_ Now what are we gonna do about school?!"

Overcome with an onslaught of emotions, Elliot turned and left the room without answering. He almost trance-like made his way through the kitchen and out the back door. Standing on the stoop, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"It's me," he said confidentially. "Listen, I need that favor…"


	13. Chapter 13

A walk-up apartment, Manhatten, Upper West Side

A walk-up apartment, Manhatten, Upper West Side

While Elliot made his furtive communication, Detectives Goren and Eames were searching through the currently empty apartment of Mr. Morgan. They had been disappointed that their suspect was not home, but fortunately the warrant also covered a complete search of the domicile. Thus, they made good use of their time.

"Look what I found under the bed," Goren said, walking into the living room area, holding an opened plastic shoebox sized storage container.

Crossing the room, she looked inside. "Elizabeth's glasses!" She moved other items around with gloved hands. "And I see junk mail for Mrs. Banks, Mrs. Perkins, _and_ Mrs. DuBois!"

"He's been taking prizes," Bobby said, nodding. "And so far those have been mostly things that the victims didn't miss later, especially after what happened to them."

Replacing the lid on the box, Eames observed, "Well, now we have enough evidence for _four_ rape convictions."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "With the DNA evidence, his access to the victims'--and intended victims'-- names and address, the witness descriptions, the methodology--"

Suddenly, a loud knock sounded on the door. Moving quickly, Bobby set the box down on a nearby coffee table, and with Eames following, approached the door and looked through the peep hole. Then, after a reassuring nod to his partner, he opened the door to a tall, dark-haired gentleman in his thirties. Noticing the badge on Goren's coat, he raised his bushy eyebrows. "You're the police?!"

"Yes, we are," Bobby answered. "And you are…?"

"I'm Walter Osborne," the other man answered. "I live next door, and when I checked my mail a few minutes ago, I found a bill for Mr. Morgan. Don't tell me he's wanted for robbery!"

"Why do you say that?" Eames asked suspiciously.

"Well," Osborne explained, "when I first met Mr. Morgan last summer--that's when I moved in--I had very bad sunburn. He told me that he could 'more than relate' because as a child his fingerprints had been burned off in an accident. He even proved it using some liquid glue and paper! So, of course I joked about him robbing a bank. I hope I didn't give him any ideas."

Recalling the lack of fingerprint evidence at the crime scenes, Bobby replied: "No, sir, you haven't."

From there events developed rapidly. After being duly informed by Eames via cell phone, Captain Ross decided to put out an APB on Patrick Edward Morgan. Also, he sent press releases to the various news media, being careful not to mention the names or ages of the victims. Afterward he made a courtesy call to Captain Cragen.

"I guess know why I'm calling," Ross said after exchanging greetings.

"Yes, I do," the other man answered, weary with relief. "Congratulations to your squad. And…thanks."

"Don't be thanking me yet," Ross said cautiously. "We still don't have Morgan in custody, and that's why I've sent press releases out. If Detective Stabler watches the news at 6PM or 11…" He paused to let Don draw the frightfully obvious conclusion.

"All right, I'll personally see to that matter." Cragen was already rising from his chair. "Thanks for the 411, Captain Ross."

"You're welcome, Captain Cragen. Good evening." He hung up.

After the phone call, Cragen quickly moved to put on his coat. _I've got to break this news to Elliot in person and make sure he understands that he can't do anything rash! _He looked at his watch. _4:15--good, I can reach his home before the evening news._

As he exited his office, Olivia immediately rose from her chair. "Captain, I know where you're going," she began.

"But you cannot come with me, Olivia," he said firmly but gently. "I know you want to help your partner, but he needs to hear it from his CO, which is who I am, at least for the time being."

"I think that a paternal approach is called for," John said in agreement, "given the circumstances."

"Actually, that's only part of the reason," Cragen said. "I honestly don't think Elliot is up to seeing anyone from the squad right now."

"Not even me?" Olivia was skeptical.

"When he was here, he got right to business," Don explained. "He told me that he wanted to leave the unit, and then he went about cleaning out his desk and locker, moving quickly. He didn't make any comments, didn't pause to look at mementos, he just did it. And when he was finished, he just shook my hand, said 'Thanks,' picked up his box and hurried out without looking back. I've seen my share of departing cops. So I know self-isolation when I see it."

Though she nodded in agreement, she asked, "Are you sure you won't need assistance? He had to be restrained last time."

Don considered this before replying. "Just to be on the safe side, I'll get someone from Major Case to come with me. No one else from this squad should be involved, in keeping with Captain Ross's orders. In fact, _I_ wouldn't be heading over if he hadn't given me a courtesy call just now."

Hearing the last sentence, Olivia nodded in acquiescence. "Please tell Elliot that we're still pulling for him."

"I will," the captain said more gently. Then, looking towards his sergeant, he added: "Munch, you're in charge until I get back."

**Meanwhile, at the Stabler residence…**

Elizabeth, having washed her face thoroughly after her long cry, returned to the sanctuary of her room and resumed her fetal position on the top bunk, her back once again pressed against the wall. Turning the pillow over to its dry side, she glanced sadly around the room. She saw her book bag and silently despaired over the homework she didn't feel like doing, despite the impending due date of her social studies report.

_I don't want to go to school anyway! How am I going to explain this stupid ugly bump?! And when I change for gym, the other girls will see the rest of my bruises--_

Suddenly Elizabeth felt very modest and terrified, as if numerous pairs of eyes were already focused on her. She pulled back the covers and slipped under the sheet, blanket, and comforter. Clutching the bedclothes tightly, she resumed her position, only her head visible. If only she could stay here forever!

_Oh, how am I ever going to face __anyone__ again?! I don't even feel up to going to Mass! All of my church friends are virgins, but I--I--_

One of her darkest memories returned abruptly. _"Roll on your stomach…now! And you better cry quieter this time--it's not my fault that you're too fresh--hardly worth it! Now, you help me get ready…yeah, you feel me getting ready--what's wrong? Oh, that's right; you've never had a guy this close--that's why you're fresh! But not for long 'cause in a couple of minutes I'm going to--_

Her scream, long and piercing, brought her mother, brother, and recently arrived sisters to the second floor. Kathy gestured for the others to remain in the hall and stepped into the room, quickly closing the door behind her. Then she was almost knocked down as Elizabeth hurled into her arms, frantically pleading not to go to church.

"You don't have to go, you don't have to go, you don't to go," she managed say reassuringly. Then, as the teen relaxed and sobbed thankfully, Kathy eased them both to the floor. Following her maternal instincts, she rubbed her daughter's back and rocked her slowly.

_You're not going to Mass tomorrow, baby--but I most certainly have to!_

Outside in the hallway, Maureen said: "Mom's got this; we might as well go downstairs."

Once in the kitchen, the siblings sat around the table, where a plate of leftover cookies and brownies had been placed a minute earlier. Dickie grabbed several shortbread squares; his sisters selected a brownie each. But nobody ate; they just sat in miserable quiet.

"You think Dad heard anything?" Dickie said eventually.

"No, he was rushing out of the door when I got in," Kathleen replied glumly. _He_ _didn't even say 'hi.'_ "And you said you didn't see his car leaving when Grandma dropped you off, Maureen?"

The other young woman shook her head. She then remembered that she was still wearing her coat. Setting her piece of cake down, she stood up to remove it. "Dickie, did he say _anything_ about where he was headed?"

"No, he just went out the back door, then he came in again a minute later, and then he went upstairs and came back down with his coat on. And that's when Kathleen saw him on the way out." He shrugged. "Maybe he's going to meet Olivia for a pep talk. At least he can talk to someone. I don't know if I can face anyone at school again!"

"Why do you say that?" Maureen inquired.

"I ran into freakin' Nicky Sommers and his cousin at the park, and…" Red-faced at the memory, Dickie couldn't bring himself to repeat the tactless comment. So he continued: "Grandma's neighbors know about it because of the police canvass. Now probably everyone in the neighborhood knows!"

"Dickie," Maureen said gently, "people will be sympathetic. I know because a number of the neighbors canvassed dropped by during the day, and they all said how 'sorry' they were and offered assistance."

"Like what? What can anyone do now?" the teen asked dourly, though he seemed less agitated.

"A couple offered prayers," his sister responded, "and Mr. Hutchinson, you know, the locksmith, offered to change the locks free of charge, though Grandma explained that it wasn't necessary." She decided not to reveal that the Chambers, who lived across the street, had directed the furniture company to deliver their new double mattress to the Maynard residence. Nobody needed to know that Colleen had repeatedly declared that she would "never sleep on _that_ mattress again!"

Dickie sat quietly for a few minutes, contemplating his sister's words. _I guess she has a point. It's not like Nick was happy about what happened--he just wanted to know what was going on. Maybe it __won't__ be so tough to handle things…_

As he began to relax, however, his mind flew to another serious matter even as he took a bite of cookie: _But where is Dad?_


	14. Chapter 14

**Somewhere in Lower Manhatten, 4:30PM**

Nino's wasn't what anyone would call a decent bar, its well-lit, well maintained interior notwithstanding. Prostitutes, low-level drug dealers, and minor organized crime employees frequented its booths and stools. For most respectable citizens it was a place to avoid. To the criminal element, it was a safe place to drink, relax, play darts, and/or conduct business.

He had been sitting at the counter for a half hour nursing a straight scotch when someone tapped him on the shoulder three times. _She's here. _Elliot turned to face a tall, blond 'prostitute' sporting a long, white faux fur coat.

Parting her garment slightly, she asked: "How about a free sample?"

Hesitating for a few seconds, he replied glumly: "What do I have to lose?" and reached inside, feeling a large envelope.

"You better be scratchin' her itch, pal!" warned the bartender. Discretion was an unspoken rule of the establishment.

Grinning slowly, Elliot sighed and turned to pay his tab. "Yeah, but I guess I'll continue scratching in my car," he replied wearily. Then, as he and his contact departed, he thought: _It sure pays to have friends in vice_.

**Stabler residence, 5:00PM**

While Detective Logan updated Kathy in the living room, Captain Cragen made an urgent cell phone call in the kitchen.

"Benson, this is Captain Cragen," he said briskly, "have anyone heard from Elliot?"

"No, sir, we--"

"Listen, Kathy says he left home almost two hours ago, and she has no idea where he is," Cragen quickly cut in, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his forehead. "If he calls any of you, or if someone calls about him, do _whatever it takes_ to keep him from harming himself or someone else, or jeopardizing his daughter's case! I cannot emphasize that enough! Do you understand?!"

"Yes, sir, I'll pass along the word," Olivia answered confidently.

"Thank you. I'll see you later." He flipped the phone closed and rejoined Logan, now standing alone in the living room.

"Kathy's going upstairs to see if Elizabeth is up to receiving me," he explained. "I think she'll feel better about her--the crime being broadcast on the news if I _personally_ reassured her that her privacy will be respected."

"I think that's a good idea," Don said, troubled and nodding.

"I take it no one's seen Stabler, Don?"

Composing himself, Cragen answered: "People are on the lookout. There's reason to hope."

**Meanwhile, back at the 16****th**** Precinct…**

With the captain's message passed on, everyone immediately went on to perform the obvious task. Munch grabbed his coat and went up to the roof to alert his confidential resources. Fin discreetly called friends from the narcotics division as well as a few contacts. Olivia phoned both Monique Jeffries, who now worked in Vice, and Sister Peg at her shelter. Then, not unaware of the irony, she contacted both Detective Dani Beck and Dr. Rebecca Hendrix. The latter expressed a great willingness to help.

"If he contacts you, please tell him I'm available to him day or night, for as long as it's needed," she said sincerely. "I'm at home now, but I'll meet with him anywhere--I'll even pick him up at any location he chooses."

"Thanks, Rebecca," Benson said gratefully. "I--the squad really appreciates this."

While Elliot's colleagues worked to locate him, his daughter was receiving some positive news.

"We know who's responsible, and there's a warrant for his immediate arrest," Mike soberly but gently informed the girl curled up on her bed, covers pulled tightly around her.

"You mean he's not been arrested yet?" Elizabeth sounded anxious.

"There's an A.P.B. on him," he responded soothingly. "That means every cop in the city is on the lookout for him. If he hasn't been caught by 6 o' clock tonight, his name, face and description are going on the news. If necessary, there will be another airing at eleven. And don't worry: _your_ name will be kept out it." He paused to see if she understood him.

Elizabeth nodded, sighing. As some stress abated, she ceased gripping the blanket and put her arms loosely around her pillow. "What happens if you don't catch him tonight?"

"Then his face and information will be in tomorrow's newspapers--and again, your name _will_ be kept out of it," Logan said. "OK?"

She nodded again. Then her eyes widened. "Will I have to go down to the station to identify him?!" Her voice was loud with a hint of tears at the end.

"No, no, no," Mike responded quickly, holding up his hands. "We have enough evidence for identification, so you don't have to go down to pick him out of a lineup."

"Good," she said, sighing with relief. Rolling onto her back, she said quietly, almost to herself, "Maybe I'll start to feel just a little better now."

Moved and sympathetic, Mike swallowed hard and mulled over a thought he'd had during the trip to Queens. _Should I do this? Is she ready to hear this? If I play it right, it just migh help--but can __I__ do this? Can I actually do this??_

"Elizabeth?" he heard himself say softly.

"Yes, Detective Logan?"

"Uh, first, you can call me Mike," he said slowly. "Second, I…I kinda know a little about what you're going through." He put his hands in his pants pockets: he didn't want her to notice when he clenched his fists.

She looked at him agape. "You…somebody…when…?"

"I was twelve when I was molested1," he answered, hanging his head. "I hit the man responsible--he was someone I knew, my family knew--and made sure I was never alone with him again." He then looked directly at her with misty eyes. "But I didn't tell anyone until I was grown. We didn't have cops, or anyone else, tell us what to do about--about _molesters__2_."

There was a long pause. Then she asked: "Are you…all right now?"

He understood what she meant. She wanted to believe that she could go back to life as she had lived it before. She wanted to laugh with her friends and family, worry about her midterms, perform routine chores, challenge her twin brother in video games, contemplate high school, giggly anticipate the last junior high school dance, look forward to the graduation ceremonies. She wanted this become just a distant, bad memory to be left far behind.

_I can't tell her that it doesn't work that way. Heck, I can't honestly say that I'm really 'all right'--too many emotional scars, but…_

"I've gotten better," he answered honestly. "When I finally told Captain Cragen--yes, that's right; he was once my captain, too--I stopped feeling ashamed."

"Why were you ashamed?" Like me, her tone implied.

"Because that's…a common effect of _any_ sexual abuse," Mike replied carefully. "It's… kinda hard for me to explain. But I can tell you this much: _we_ have nothing to be ashamed of. _Nothing_. It's _always_ the abuser's fault. That's something that Captain Cragen drove home to me. And if he were in here now, he'd say the same thing to you."

"Really?" She sounded almost hopeful.

"Yes," he said sincerely.

There was a pause. Then she said: "So, so it helped you a lot? I mean…talking to him?"

"I wish I had done it sooner."

For a few minutes she was pensive. She rolled slowly onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her arms folded across her chest. Finally, she turned her head towards Logan.

"Mike, I…peeked out of my window when you pulled up," Elizabeth said slowly. "I-I know that Captain Cragen is with you…and…can you please ask him to come up?"

**Meanwhile, in a Manhatten parking garage…**

_Why did I get this report?! Why did I read it?! Why?! Why?! Are my cop instincts at work, telling me to go through the motions as if I were working the case?!_

Heaving a sigh, Elliot slumped in the driver's seat, absentmindedly turning off the flashlight in his hand. He felt a debilitating blend of outrage (_That ruthless, perverted #!!),_ frustration (_Where is that scum; I want to beat and choke the life out of him!!),_ sorrow (_Oh_ _Elizabeth, my poor innocent little girl!),_ and guilt (_Why did I let her go alone? I should have sent Dickie over as well!_) Worse of all, he felt completely lost. He had no idea what to do with his excruciating thoughts, and he knew that he wasn't helping his victimized daughter in the process.

"I _am_ a failure," he heard himself say softly, tears streaming down his face. "I really, truly am a failure."

Suddenly, several gentle knocks sound on the passenger window. Turning his head quickly, Elliot recognized the concerned face and felt a mix of relief and embarrassment. But he mentally focused past the latter and unlatched the door, which opened immediately.

"So how did you find me?" he monotoned.

1 Logan revealed this sad fact in Season Three or Four of _Law & Order_.

2 The detective wanted to use a less socially acceptable word but refrained out of respect and concern for Elizabeth.


	15. Chapter 15

Looking at her former partner with concern, Detective Dani Beck replied, "Benson called me with the 411. I remembered a name you'd mentioned in passing when we were partnered and made a call to Vice--"

"What?!" Elliot jerked his head to face her. _I can't believe she gave me up so easily!_

Dani held up her hand in a calming gesture. "Turns out she'd begun having second thoughts about 'helping' you. After that, I called some more contacts and subsequently learned your location. Luckily I was catching a quick bite just a few blocks from here."

Elliot shrugged indifferently. "So this is when you tell me not do 'anything I'll regret?'" _Not that the idea hasn't occurred to me._

"No, this is where I tell you that there's an APB on the perp."

Putting the pieces together quickly, Elliot demanded: "_**Who is he?!**_" His voice was full of paternal vengeance.

"He's someone who's going to be on the 6 o'clock news," Beck answered. Then, as quickly as a cobra, she seized Stabler's hand as it moved to the ignition key. "I know you want to get to a TV, so let's go look at the one in the loft."

Knowing which loft she was referring to, Elliot hesitated, assailed by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he felt--rightly or wrongly, he could not decide--too ashamed to be seen by his friends and colleagues. His mind pictured the busy bullpen with a stern apparition of his late father superimposed over it. However, he logically knew that his friends, especially the captain1 and Benson, would definitely support him as best they could. Moreover, they would prevent him from committing the kind of actions that would cost him his job and/or his freedom and self-respect.

And right now, neither he nor his family--especially Elizabeth--could afford to sustain any more losses.

"All right, Dani, let's go to the 1-6," he said in quiet resignation.

While her father was meeting with Dani Beck, Elizabeth was meeting with Captain Cragen. As the latter entered her room, she followed her instinct to move back against the wall. However, she didn't clutch her blanket again.

Sensitive to her psychological state after years on the job, he remained by the door. "Hello, Elizabeth." His manner was gentle, his face unsmiling but compassionate.

"Hullo," she managed tensely, her eyes misting. Then: "Captain, how do you…what…does…everyone think?" The last two words were quickly spoken.

Cragen understood instantly. "We're all sorry about what's happened to you," he answered sympathetically. "Everyone--including Olivia--is praying and pulling for you."

Moved by the news, she let her tears flow freely. But her voice was steadier as she asked hopefully: "Then nobody's disappointed then?"

"Why would we be disappointed, Elizabeth?" he asked gently, though he knew the reason behind the question.

"I opened the door to a stranger," she replied almost inaudibly, hanging her head. "I should have made sure he had proper I.D. I should have waited until Grandma came home."

"He should have never raped you," Cragen stated quietly and yet firmly. When she lifted her head in response, he looked at her directly and repeated: "He should have never raped you."

For a minute she was silent. Don watched as she considered his words. Then she moved forward away from the wall. "I need tissues, please…"

Cragen picked up the box from the desk and move across the room to hand the item to her. _I believe some progress has been made._

Removing several sheets, Elizabeth tearfully asked: "What…what's going to happen to Dad? You--you've probably heard..."

Understanding, Cragen reassured calmly: "Nothing. Everyone, including Detective Goren, understands the emotional strain he's under. And there's help available for him, just as there is for you--when _you're_ ready."

The teen sighed, her relief obvious as she wiped her face. Then for the next few minutes she seemed thoughtful, though she continued to shed tears. Finally, she looked at Don and said: "Thanks."

"Anytime, hon," Don replied supportively, nodding.

**A Manhatten gym, 6:02PM**

Kelli Losch almost stumbled on the treadmill as she gaped at the silent overhead television. _Oh, my--that guy was just here, fast walkin' beside me! Oh, man, I wonder if he's still here--it doesn't matter, they got his name and address at the office._

The heavyset brunette took her cell phone from her sweatpants pocket and flipped it open, oblivious to several others in the room who were performing the same action.

1 Stabler doesn't know that Cragen has gone to Queens.


	16. Chapter 16

The Stabler Residence, 6:05PM

**The Stabler Residence, 6:05PM**

Cragen and Logan were sitting on the couch with Kathy when the captain's cell phone rang. He promptly excused himself and moved to the kitchen, knowing that Munch was calling to give him an update since Elliot's arrival at the precinct earlier.

"John?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"It's OK, Captain," the sergeant replied quietly. "Elliot sat and watched the news upstairs with Benson, Beck, Fin and Lake standing by. I was downstairs attending to other matters, so all I've seen is everyone taking a ferocious-looking father to another room to cool off afterward."

"Was he _acting_ 'ferocious'?"

"No, unless you count walking with one's head down while clenching his teeth and fists," Munch answered in his usual dry manner. "But, he _was_ quiet about it. Ah, the good doctor has just arrived."

"Dr. Huang?"

"No, our resident cop-doc, Rebecca Hendrix," came the answer. "Olivia must have called her."

"That's good news," sighed the captain. "All right, I have to go now. Thanks, John, and stay on top of things until I return."

Putting his phone away, Don returned to the living room to inform Kathy.

**Back at the 1-6…**

In an interrogation room, Elliot and Rebecca sat at opposite ends of the table. His head was bowed, so she did not see his bleary eyes. However, she did notice his hands, which opened and closed occasionally as they rested on the table.

"How do you feel right now, Elliot?" she finally asked politely.

He jerked his head up, a look of annoyance and surprise on his face. "What kind of--"he started, and then, "I feel like a _helpless failure _who wants to kill the _rotten scum_ that violated my daughter!" He slammed one fist on the table.

But then his face softened as he continued more quietly. "She's gonna have to live with this the _rest of her life_--and she's just a kid." His voice caught at the last word, and he didn't hold back the tears that followed. "I…know this sounds wrong, and it's against everything I've wanted for my kids, but…but I'd feel better if she had just--if she and a, uh, classmate…" He lowered his head again, burying his face in his hands.

Dr. Hendrix waited a few moments before speaking. "First of all, your preference for fornication over rape is understandable. Second, you are neither a 'failure' nor are you 'helpless,' though your feelings of powerlessness and guilt are not unusual--"

"I know, I'm a cop!" Elliot, raising his head, interrupted sharply. His face was wet with tears, but the gaze of the red eyes was steady. "I also know that my anger at the rapist is common, too!" He gave a mirthless laugh. "I even took out those feelings on a fellow detective working the case--"He stopped, averting his eyes briefly, feeling very ashamed of his earlier actions. Looking back at Rebecca and seeing her only nod sympathetically, he remarked dryly, "I guess the word got out about me."

"Actually, when you arrived here, Olivia called me with the information," she answered. Then she continued her counseling. "Elliot, how would you advise a father who is in the same position that you are in right now?"

Sighing loudly, Elliot bowed his head again. _I feel like such a hypocrite just thinking about this rationally. _"I…I would tell him to calm down because, because his…daughter, doesn't need a raging dad right now. She needs, she needs him to calmly comfort her, not blame her, and see that she gets help. And he needs to support her through everything in the coming days--Rebecca, what if this goes to trial?! What if the perp doesn't cop a plea?!" The sudden questions came in a fearful, anguish rush.

"Then use your experience and knowledge to support her through it," Dr. Hendrix answered positively. "You've done that for others, so you can do that for Elizabeth."

"Sure, if I stop beating myself up over everything," he replied dryly. Then his face seemed thoughtful. _Maybe that's part of the answer…_

"Yes, Elliot," she said, as if she had divined his thoughts. "Now I know that it's much easier said than done, but there's help available for you. And remember: your friends and colleagues on the job are pulling and praying for you."

For a while Elliot sat pensively. Dr. Hendrix waited patiently as he fixed his gaze on his now-folded hands, though his mind was obviously elsewhere. Finally, he looked at the counselor and asked slowly, "What do I say to Elizabeth about…this afternoon?"

Minutes after Elliot began his counseling session, the detectives Eames and Goren were speeding towards Buff 'N Ready Gym. The senior officer was driving calmly. Her partner was sitting agitatedly.

"How could we have missed all those clues?!" he said in self-reproach. "She said he was built like he worked out, the other vics all agree about that, but yet there was _no gym_ _equipment_ in the apartment, not even a _workout CD!_ So he _had_ to belong to a gym--and there was one just a few blocks away!" He sighed, shaking his head.

"First of all, Bobby," Alex explained firmly and placidly, "we're _all_ overworked, overtired, and overstressed. Second, as much as you hate it when things get past you, just remember: we still caught the perp in a little over 24 hours."

Relaxing, Goren nodded. "You're right, Alex," he sighed. Then he added in grim contemplation: "'A little over 24 hours'…how different things have become…"

Meanwhile, back at One Police Plaza, Captain Ross was making a crucial telephone call.

"This is Ron Carver," answer the ADA crisply.

"Evening, Ron, it's Dan Ross. You probably know why I'm calling."

"Yes, I was just watching the evening news. Congratulations, and yes, I will take the case. I don't want this man walking on any technicalities." Carver had a well-earned reputation for "going by the book" and utilizing hard evidence rather than semantics, emotional plays or "objectionable" courtroom methods to prove the People's case.

"I trust that your detectives know the stakes?" the ADA added cryptically.

Ross understood. "Yes, they do," he replied confidently. "Goren and Eames'll have here for you in one piece."

**The Stabler residence, 6:30PM**

On the top bunk Elizabeth lay in deep thought, her arms folded tightly over her chest. She had accepted the news (from Mike) about the arrest with tearful but calm relief. Then, after his and the captain's departure, she had accepted Kathy's offer for dinner (her stomach was uncomfortably empty again). But there were still some troubling matters at hand.

First, where was her father? She did not dare recall the events of the day (_Has it only been one day?!_), but she knew he had departed abruptly--she had heard the door slam shut and his car's screeching departure. She knew her father would never overreact out of anger1, but where was he?? And what was he doing??

_Maybe he's talking to someone--like…like Olivia! Yeah, he's probably at her apartment__2__ talking about…stuff. And maybe they saw the news, or somebody called her! Yeah, that's got to be--must be it!_

Having settled the issue at least for the moment, the teen turned her thoughts to tomorrow. Mass was still out of the question. She no longer felt guilty about the loss of her virginity; Cragen had counseled that _she_ was not the one at fault. But she just did not feel ready to go to church--or even school. For some reason she felt uneasy about leaving the house. She did not like this feeling, but at least now she no longer castigated herself for having it.

_I guess that's what counseling is for._

**While, at Buff 'N Ready Gym**

"Police!" "NYPD!" "Sir, please!" "No comment now!"

Flashing their badges, Eames and Goren quickly and carefully made their way through the incipient crowd of onlookers and reporters. Passing the barricades set up in front of the building, they entered through the front doors, which were flanked by two stern uniforms. Inside the lobby, the duo was greeted by a uniformed officer name Connors and a muscular young man sporting a dark crew cut and navy sweat suit.

"This is Bart Dugan, the night manager," explained Connors. "One of the patrons hurried to see him after calling 911."

"I wanted to make sure he didn't get away," Dugan said, "so I lured him to my office with an offer for 'special reduced fees.' When your people arrived a minute later, he had nowhere to run!"

"So he's still in the office?" Eames inquired.

The stocky bald officer nodded. "My partner's babysitting him, plus two others are keeping watch outside the door."

"Let's go, then!" she said.

A few minutes later they saw him. Sitting inside of a room dominated by a desk, two file cabinets and several chairs, the blond, wavy-haired man's back faced the door. But when Eames called out his full name, Morgan slowly and carefully turned--his hands were manacled behind him--and gazed with fearful blue and brown eyes.

While Goren glowered behind her, his eyes recording his body language, his superior continued: "You're under arrest for aggravated sexual assault, statutory rape, and assault and battery! You have the right to remain silent…"

1 Elizabeth is not privy to her dad's on-the-job temper, and these events occur in a setting predating "Confession." Also, I am assuming that her parents and older siblings shielded her from learning that Elliot once grabbed Kathleen's date out of a parked car.

2 Elizabeth is also unaware of Benson's job duties.


	17. Chapter 17

**One Police Plaza sometime later**

Captain Ross, followed by Ron Carver, entered the bullpen to update the four officers, who were typing their reports.

"Our 'guest' waived his rights," he said caustically, "and gave a few predictable and pathetic excuses."

"Oh, and just what did he have to say?" Falacci asked, laughing mirthlessly.

"He talked about his mother's abandonment and his grandmother's physical abuse," the captain responded.

"Humph!" snorted Logan, thinking: _So what's __my__ excuse?_

"Doctor Skoda is on the way for an evaluation," Carver informed them. "I'm not a behavioral expert, but I have seen my share of insanity defenses. I doubt this one's going to last through trial."

"How can it, especially when Crime Scene found his 'work clothes' and those notebooks in his gym bag?" Alex asked rhetorically as she reached for her nearby mug. "And that's on top of the DNA evidence---which _will_ match his, the stolen property, and the methodology."

"His only hope is proving he has a mental disease or defect," the assistant district attorney said, "and so far, Alibi Ike hasn't mentioned seeing a shrink. So unless Skoda finds something, he's finished."

**Meanwhile, at the Stabler Residence…**

A knock sounded on the bedroom door. "Elizabeth, your father wants to apologize. Can he?" Kathy spoke slowly and gently.

Her heart hopped hopefully. She had heard her father's arrival an hour ago and had deduced that he was much calmer. There had been no raised voices or other commotion. And now that he was approaching her contritely…

"Yes, Mom, please."

Elliot entered slowly, his reddened eyes bleary but devoid of anger. There was a pleading look on is face as he moved to stand beside the bed. Elizabeth was surprised but relived by his placid and remorseful appearance.

"Honey," he said in a strained voice, "I---I'm sorry about what happened today. I know I didn't help you, and I know I wasn't helping myself. I wasn't---I wasn't mad at you, _never you_, I was mad at---at _him_." He stopped to wipe at his eyes before continuing.

"I spoke to someone today, baby, just like I hope you do the same---when you're up to it. In---in the meantime, I want you know that you have all of my support, all of my prayers, and all of my love---no matter what."

Deeply moved by relief and forgiveness, Elizabeth tearfully moved into her father's embrace.

**One Police Plaza, 90 minutes later**

Captain Ross was in the bullpen being updated by Alex when Skoda came in from his session with Morgan.

"He has lingering issues with his mother and grandmother," the tall lanky psychiatrist stated, "but he's competent."

He looked like he was going to elaborate, but the weary police captain raised one hand. "Fine," he said abruptly. "Sorry, Doctor, but it's been a long, rough day. You like pancakes?"

Dr. Skoda nodded. "And I know where that new pancake/waffle place is."

"Before he left, Carver said he'd be delighted to meet us there tomorrow at 9."

"Fine. See you tomorrow morning."

As Skoda departed, Ross addressed Alex and the others.

"Eames has informed me that Morgan's DNA matches the evidence at the appropriate crime scenes, and the reports have been faxed over. So, if you're all done with the DD5's leave for the rest of the weekend. You've more than earned it. Besides, there's nothing more for you to do---it's up to Carver now."

At first, nobody moved. They had put so much time and emotion into this case that they found it initially difficult to physically separate themselves from it. Then, perceiving their psychological dilemma, they rose from their desks, put on their coats, and silently departed to their separate lives. No one bid the captain good night, but Ross was not offended. He knew that only the breakfast meeting prevented him from feeling the same way.


	18. Chapter 18

Returning to their respectful domiciles, the detectives sought relief, with varied results. Nora slipped into bed next to her husband, finding refuge in his sleepy recitation of household matters. Bobby and Alex split a late (Chinese) takeout meal in her living room, watching the History Channel until she covered her sleeping partner with a blanket and retired for the night herself. And Mike, tormented by the sufferings of a fellow cop's daughter, paced in his apartment for a while, nursing a beer until he finally put down his half-empty bottle and dialed Cragen's cell number.

**The Stabler Residence**

_She was in the kitchen, happily baking cookies with her equally cheery sisters and mother. Meanwhile, her father and brother's one-sided conversations with the televised athletes were audible from the living room. When the doorbell rang, she answered promptly and serenely…_

_He__ was there. The blue and brown eyes once again bore into her psyche. His mouth was set at the same grim line when he had first speared into her._

_Despite her consuming terror, strangely she could not move or scream._

_Then he pinned her down on the floor. And suddenly she was alone: the living room was silent and deserted; the kitchen no longer emitted feminine laughter. She felt completely abject, knowing his humiliating intentions as he stripped her of clothes and dignity…_

Sitting up quickly, she gasped as she thrashed at her imaginary intruder. Then, comprehending her situation, she quickly descended from the top bunk and fled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it. Next, Elizabeth vomited her bedtime snack of milk and chocolate chip cookies into the toilet. Then she rushed into the shower, frantically tearing out of her sweat suit under the heated spray. Sobbing, she forcefully used bristles and soap to purify herself of the repulsive dream.

_Why, why, why?! He's __caught__; he's __in jail__, so __why am I having this dream__?!! Why does it make me feel so __disgusting__; oh, why can't I just __sleep?!__ Oh, forgive me, God, but __I hate him!!__ I hope __he's__ getting raped __now!!_

Attending to a restless Eli, Elliot audibly witnessed his daughter's traumatized actions. Sighing, he agonizingly resisted his paternal urge to go and try to comfort girl himself. Instead, he remained seated on the end of the bed, gently bouncing Eli while anticipating Kathleen's bathroom door knock, which occurred seconds later. _She knows how to take it from here; she's been instructed._

**The 16****th**** Precinct **

Olivia lay staring up towards the top bunk above her, still unable to sleep. Despite the earlier news of Morgan's capture, she was unable to sleep---not with Elizabeth's situation on her mind. The detective had watched too many victims walk down that thorny path. Granted, the journey could take the teen to a better place, though not the same one she had yesterday. But it would certainly---well, hopefully---be better than the one the girl inhabited now.

_I'll find time to stop by tomorrow, just to make sure that Elliot's, well, hanging in here and to check up on Elizabeth's status._

Sighing, she rolled on her side and wondered if the God she only occasionally thought about would hear her prayers.

**The Stabler Residence, 9:00AM**

Having waked with an uncomfortable stomach, Elizabeth crept downstairs anxiously._ Please don't let it be dad; I don't want to answer any questions about last night! But wait; Kathleen got Mom and she would have told him after…_ She felt less uneasy.

"'Morning, honey," Elliot managed politely as he fed Eli. _Don't stare; don't intrude---just be there for her._

"Hi," she answered quickly, moving to the cabinet to hastily grab a box of chocolate fudge toaster pastries.

As she silently microwaved her sugary breakfast, Elizabeth felt internal conflicts. Part of her wanted him to speak her, to hold her reassuringly in his strong and protective arms. However, another part of her did not feel ready to talk about the assault---at least not with him.

_If he asks me anything about Friday, I'll just cry __forever!_

But, when he remained silent, tending to Eli's breakfast, she wordlessly devoured her own meal and quietly retreated back upstairs with a mug of black coffee.

**Waffles & Wonders, Manhatten, 9:25AM**

"All right, so that we're on the same page here," Captain Ross said, cutting into his pancakes, "Morgan _is not_ legally insane, right?"

"Correct," Skoda replied, nodding unequivocally. "I'd stake my reputation on it."

"But would a defense 'expert' stake his or hers?" Ross pressed before eating a syrupy bite of quick bread.

"He or she would be crazy to do so---no pun intended," came the answer.

"I have to agree," Carver declared, stirring cream into his coffee. "Morgan knows that his actions were wrong, otherwise he wouldn't have tried to excuse them. Furthermore, altering his appearance was an attempt to avoid the consequence of capture through identification. And lastly, his issues are_ not_ a disabling mental disease or defect."

"No," Skoda said, spreading warm blueberries over his waffles. "He's just an angry man seeking revenge against his grandmother."

**Stabler Residence, 1PM**

Elizabeth had just hurried upstairs with a sandwich when the telephone rang. Elliot moved to answer. "Hello?"

"Hi, El, it's me," Olivia said. She was sitting in a sedan near a Brooklyn McDonald's, waiting for Munch to return with their lunches. "How's Elizabeth?"

After a short pause, her former partner replied soberly, "She knows she's got everyone's support. Otherwise, it's…routine." He didn't want to discuss her withdrawn behavior. It would just intensify his various emotions, which were difficult enough to control.

She swallowed hard before continuing. "Elliot, you know that vics have recovered from worse…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Liv, thanks," he replied impatiently, frowning and closing his eyes, his free hand fisted. Then, recovering his composure, he added: "Look, I appreciate your call. It's just that …well, you know."

"Yes, El," she said softly, wishing she could do more. Then, supportively, "If need me for anything, don't hesitate to call me."

"Thanks, Liv," Elliot answered, moved. "You take care, and tell everyone 'hello' and 'thanks.'"

Meanwhile, upstairs Elizabeth was lying on her top bunk, staring up at the ceiling until she turned her head to look at the digital clock on the desk. _Great, I've spent over three hours laying here feeling cruddy! I'm tired, but I'm too scared to sleep! I have school work that needs to get done, but I just don't care it, or whether we get anymore snow, or the Shamrock Dance next month, or anything! And I hate it! I hate being this way---__I want it to stop!_

Just then, a soft knock heralded her mother's careful entrance. "Honey, would you like a drink?" Kathy asked gently.

"All right," Elizabeth answered, eyes on the ceiling above. Then she added: "And Mom? I…tomorrow…need…to see…someone…"

Author's note: _The History Channel and McDonald's are registered trademarks that belong to parties other than the author._


	19. Chapter 19

**One Police Plaza, Monday, 10:00AM**

In his office, flanked by ADA Carver, Captain Ross listened to the public defender, a slightly built young woman named Clarice Billings.

"My client acknowledges his actions," she stated firmly, "but, as your psych report proves, he also has his share of problems."

"But he's still legally sane," Carver said crisply. "That's _also_ in the report."

"Nonetheless, he doesn't need to spend the next dozen or so years being abused for his troubles!" she declared.

"His _what?! _What about the_ 'troubles' _he caused those women and those girls?!" Ross snapped. Even after years of experience, he still could be incredulous at defense attorney's assertions.

"First, he never knew his father _(How many times have I heard that?! Thought the captain, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.)_, and his mother abandoned him to _her_ mother when he was eight," Billings explained urgently. "She did this because she had become pregnant by a man who didn't want to raise someone else's child. So while Patrick's half-sister lived in a Manhatten brownstone with both parents, going to private schools, music lesions, and family vacations, he resided in a dingy Staten Island apartment with a cruel woman---"

"Yes, yes, I know; it's in my officers' report!" Ross exclaimed. "He excused himself repeatedly, starting on the ride here! He even said he was 'sorry.'" The last word was spat out disdainfully.

"Does he feel sorry enough to serve the maximum for each count?" Carver said. "Because that's what I'm going to ask the judge for. And after he hears how your client _betrayed_ his employer's trust to select his victims, that he _battered_ them before _violating _them---two times each---and that the last two were _underage girls,_ he---"

Billings lifted a hand. "All right, he serves the maximum for each count," she conceded with a sigh, "but in a protective unit of a medium security prison, with counseling."

"He goes to a maximum security prison, he receives the counseling, he serves the maximum for each rape consecutively, concurrent with the battery and theft charges, and yes, he will be in a protected section," Carver stated crisply.

"You call that a deal?" The public defender was agape.

"Professionally speaking, I think your client is using his problems as an excuse," the ADA explained. "So, if you go to trial, you're going to have to convince the judge that Morgan merits counseling. After all, he's legally sane. It will also be your job to convince him that he needs a protected unit as opposed to solitary confinement. ."

She let out a huge sigh. "All right. I need to run this by my client, and then I'll get back to you…"

**Office of Dr. Elizabeth Olivet, 1:00AM**

Elliot was sitting in the lobby beside Kathy when his telephone vibrated. Excusing himself, he departed the room and standing in the foyer, checked the number. _Cragen! Then it can mean only one thing…_

"Captain?"

"Elliot, I just heard from Captain Ross," the older man stated. "Morgan is pleading out and will serve consecutive terms. He's never getting back out on the streets."

"That's good news, Captain," he said, feeling encouraged though not elated.

Cragen continued: "You tell Elizabeth that we're all still pulling for her."

"I will, Cap. Thanks, and…keep looking into that job transfer."

"Yes, Elliot, I will." Cragen's tone was resigned. "You all take care."

"You too, sir."

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was going through preliminary questions with Dr. Olivet when the girl suddenly lashed out.

"What are you asking me these things for?! Can't we just cut to the chase and tell me how I get better?!" She was now standing in front of her chair.

"How do you 'get better' from what, Elizabeth?" the psychologist asked gently.

"When do I sleep through the night without dreaming about _him?! _How do I get this, this _marked_ feeling off of me, like everyone can see that I've been---that I'm not---I---I---" She collapsed back into her seat as her face crumpled, her sobs whimpering. When Dr. Olivet handed her a box of tissues, the girl accepted without hesitation.

**The 16****th**** Precinct, 2:30PM**

"Hey, Case," Olivia said, entering the ADA's office, "I'm ready to prep."

"I hope you've had lunch," Casey said, sighing as she stood to get the case file from her desk, "because you're going to get ready from everything Trevor can throw at you. I wish this case were as easily resolved as Elizabeth's."

"Huh?! What are you saying---that it's over all ready?!" Detective Benson was taken aback.

"Oh, I'm sorry; you and Munch were out all day. And I guess you didn't speak to anyone when you got in?" Casey was a bit embarrassed.

"No." Olivia shook her head. "What happened?"

"According to Cragen, Morgan is pleading guilty to all counts against him," the ADA explained. "He has to serve the maximum for each count of rape consecutively, concurrent to the battery and burglary charges, and that's not taking into consideration any possible federal charges for mail theft."

"So he's not going anywhere; good," Olivia said with satisfaction. "Let's see how he likes his new life behind bars."

Casey decided not to tell Olivia about the rapist going to the protective unit. They had to get ready for the case that they _were_ involved in, and Olivia could not be distracted. So she picked up the appropriate legal pad and said: "Ready?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Dr. Olivet's Office, one week later, 4:00PM**

"Well, uh, school, was OK," said Elizabeth, rotating a small stuffed mouse on her lap.

"Did you have any problems on your first day?" Olivet asked gently.

Elizabeth averted her eyes as she answered. "When I got to school---Mom drove me---I went right to home room and sat down. Nobody said anything to me, not even the teacher at attendance---that's the way it was for the rest of the day. Except for lunch: when I asked my usual friends if I could sit down---it's a long table---they made room for me and, they talked while I ate. Then I went to the library for the rest of the period.

"I see," Dr. Olivet said, nodding. "So, where you able to get any reading done?"

Now the teen looked down at the mouse. "I looked at my notes," she answered softly, "and it was like someone else wrote them. I…don't remember taking them." Looking up abruptly, she said more loudly, "That's normal, isn't it?!"

"Yes, Elizabeth, it is," reassured the doctor, "and it's also temporary."

**The 16****th**** Precinct, two weeks later**

Captain Cragen was filling out yet another round of paperwork when the telephone rang.

"Cragen."

"Hello, Captain, it's me, Elliot." His voice was calm and casual, almost cordial.

"Hello, Elliot, how are things?" He almost smiled as he spoke.

"Well, Elizabeth has been sleeping through the night for a week, plus she's played catch-up with her schoolwork. She's a good student, and the teachers' are giving her some slack, and Kathleen1 has been helping her. And she's been to Mass the lasts two Sundays."

"I'm glad to hear it, Elliot," Don said, feeling lighter.

"And I know that Olivia and the others would want to hear it too, so you can pass it on."

"I will. Thanks for sharing."

"You're welcome, though that's not why I called." Stabler's voice sobered. "I have been seeing Dr. Hendrix, and we both agree that I'm ready to return to work."

_But not in SVU_. "All right, Elliot. I'll see what I can find." Despite expecting the detective's departure, Cragen could barely keep his sadness out of his voice.

"Thanks, Cap. Oh, and it doesn't have to be in Staten Island. I…just don't want to be in the field, now."

"I understand. I'll get back to you, and we'll see what fits, OK?"

"That's fine. Thanks again. Give my best to everyone."

"Take care, El."

**M.S. 172, Glen Oaks, Queens, several days later**

Elizabeth was about to leave the bathroom stall when she picked up the voices:

"…how could she let it happen?"

_Huh?! _Her stomach knotted as the conversation continued.

"Probably didn't think it could happen to a cop's kid, especially _her_."

"What do you mean, _'her'? _Despite the glasses, she's not half bad. Between that and being alone, she shouldn't have opened that door---I know _I_ wouldn't!"

"Puh-leez! No offense, Gert, you're my best friend and everything, but I really don't think neither of us qualifies as rape bait!"

Barely controlling her quivering hand, Elizabeth yanked the door open, causing their laughter to abruptly terminate. As she stared hard at their profoundly mortified faces, she opened her mouth to communicate her outrage and humiliation, but only a guttural sound---half sob, half growl---escaped. So she fled the room, tears streaming down her face, and raced towards the school counselors' office.

1 In this story Kathleen does not have bipolar disorder.


	21. Chapter 21

**M.S. 172, Glen Oaks, Queens**

As she nervously entered the counselor's office, fourteen-year-old Meredith Sommers quickly began an apology/explanation: "Dr. Brooks, I didn't know that she was there and if I did…" His steady, stern gaze from dark bushy eyebrows extinguished her words.

"Sit down, Ms. Sommers," he monotoned from behind his desk. His order obeyed, he continued: "What is the extent of your knowledge of sexual abuse?"

"Well, uh, it happens to some women, and maybe men sometimes, like if they're gay or in prison, and sometimes it happens girls, too." She maneuvered her eyes between his name plate and the miniature American flag on his desk.

"Do you know why?" He learned forward in his chair.

"I---I guess they want sex, whether the person wants it or not," she replied, squirming in her chair.

"Do you think Ms. Stabler 'wanted it?'?"

"No, no!" Eyes wide, she raised her hands, shaking her head vigorously. "She didn't want it; she just made a mistake!"

"_She_ made a mistake?"

"Well, she, she shouldn't have opened the door without making sure he was from the power company," Meredith managed, shuddering. "Or, uh, she could have told him to come back when her grandmother was there."

"Or _the rapist_ could have respected her and the law!" exclaimed Dr. Brooks. "Did you consider _that fact_, young lady?!"

Hanging her head, she shook it slowly. "Sorry."

"You need to be more than _'sorry'_---you need to be _educated_." He reached into his desk and removed some pamphlets. "Your answers, as well as your conduct, indicate that you know very little about the subject of rape and sexual abuse. Until further notice, you are going to stay after school to write a report. It will be at least _three_ typed pages." Handing her the booklets, he continued: "These will get you started, but there is additional information in the library and on the Internet. You will have to access those latter sources on your own time; after school you will be in the detention room. You will be permitted to read, to make notes, and to compose there. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she replied softly.

"Also, you are to have no unnecessary contact with Ms. Stabler. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now," he dismissed, "return to your regular class."

Feeling relieved but still shaken, Meredith unhesitantly departed the office. She walked swiftly to her English class, sadly making a mental note to tell Ms. Forman that she would be unable to work with the drama club in the foreseeable future. Meanwhile, her counterpart Gertrude Gibson was glumly departing her math class for her own appointment with Dr. Brooks.

**Dr. Olivet's office, several hours later**

"Unfortunately, Elizabeth, their thinking is not uncommon," Dr. Olivet sympathized. "That's why it's important that you understand that they are speaking out of ignorance."

"Great! Then maybe their punishment will stick with them!" The teen angrily wipe her cheeks with a tissue.

"And what is the penalty?"

"Staying after school writing reports about sexual assault."

Olivet nodded approvingly. "An excellent move on part of the principal. It will be a worthwhile lesson that they won't forget."

Elizabeth grabbed another tissue. _Far enough: __I__ won't be forgetting anything either!_ Then she said: "I still wish I could…let them know how I felt. I mean, I-I just couldn't get it out then!" She slapped her hand on her lap loudly.

After a short pause, the doctor said, "Are you up to a little written exercise?"

**Elizabeth and Kathleen Stabler's bedroom, evening**

Her letters completed, Elizabeth leaned back in the desk chair and silently read the latest one.

_Dear Meredith:_

_First, my looks wouldn't have made a difference; Mr. Morgan harmed elderly ladies. Why? Because as I'm sure you're discovering in detention, __rape is not about looks---it's about power and control.__ Rapists chose people of __all__ appearances, ages, genders, races, and sexual preferences. Second, you're right about one thing: I didn't think it could happen to me, though not for the reasons you brought up. But remember this: if it happened to me, than __it can happen to you__. Hopefully, your extracurricular studies will show you how to protect yourself because I wouldn't wish this on even __you! __ How would you like lying terrified that you might die from a beating?! Do you want some sick pervert to force his dirty sinful acts on you?!___

Wiping her cheeks with her free hand, she signed her name without a closing and checked the other missive.

_Dear Gert:_

_First, even if __you__ wouldn't open the door to a stranger, you certainly would do so for an acquaintance---and there __is__ something called __acquaintance rape__. I'm sure you're learning __that__ now. Second, Mr. Morgan was looking for an elderly lady---__my grandmother__---thus proving the fact that rape __isn't__ motivated by __sex__. __It's about power and control.__ That's why __you__ can just as easily be threatened into silence before getting __slapped__ and __punched__ and __invaded__!_

Grimly signing her name, she had a sudden idea. After folding each letter, she withdrew two envelopes from the desk. _This isn't part of my assignment, but, boy, does it feel therapeutic!_

**The master bedroom, 11:05PM**

"She's going to do that?!" Elliot was surprised by pleased.

"And she was as serious as a heart attack." Kathy nodded proudly, sliding next to him in the bed. "I told her she was doing the right thing."

"That she is," he agreed. "Like I've told you, misconceptions and judgments are one reason why some rapists get off. Hopefully, those girls will take their newfound knowledge with them for life, especially if either of them ends up on a jury. Anyway, I think it's time for lights out. I want to be rested for my breakfast meeting with Cragen tomorrow."


	22. Chapter 22

**Dr. Olivet's Office, several weeks later**

"Well, how have things been lately?" asked the doctor.

"I've been feeling less stressed," Elizabeth answered brightly, her eyes rather wide. "And I like having my dad home more often."

"Why?"

"He's more relaxed, now that he works in Forest Hills behind a desk. I mean, he has a desk job at a precinct in Forest Hills." She managed a smile. "He sometimes does some overtime, but it's not like when he was in Special Victims. And his mood makes it easier on Mom, though it _does_ get embarrassing seeing them kiss! And I wish I had a camera every time I see him play with Eli."

"That's all good to hear, Elizabeth," Olivet said, hiding her suspicions about the girl's upbeat mood. "How is your appetite?"

"Fine." No hesitation.

"And your sleep?"

Now she looked down and pressed her index fingers together in the church steeple position. "Not easy," she finally answered.

"Any reason why?"

"Well, remember…after I was given that 'morning after' pill, I---I threw up later at home. I should have call the doctor but---but I didn't want to go back to that hospital. Too---too many bad…memories...of the exams." She stopped at that point, sighing hard.

"Why is that affecting your sleep?" Olivet gently probed.

"My…period…is late."


	23. Chapter 23

**Stabler residence, the following Saturday**

Elliot lay on his bed, his glaring eyes opened wide towards the ceiling above. He was now more thankful than ever that Eli was there and his other children out of the house. If that were not the case, he would have been tempted race to his car and burn rubber upstate to confront Morgan---

_And then what?! Inmates there have to talk on a phone behind Plexiglas, and I wouldn't be able to bring a weapon in the room. Besides, when push came to shove, I wouldn't---I couldn't commit cold-blooded murder! I'm above that!__1__ Besides, that won't change anything if that sick monster---if Elizabeth is---_

Suddenly, he sat up with a harsh grunt. He then crossed himself and prayed for help. He didn't know what he wanted God to do. But he wanted to be free from his frustrating anxiety.

**Meanwhile, at a Queens ob-gyn…**

Kathy watched her daughter disappear behind the door leading away from the waiting room. On the way over she had repeatedly offered her supportive presence. And each time the teen had unequivocally refused. Yet her fear and apprehension were obvious.

_She didn't want me with her for the... rape exam. I guess she doesn't want me with her now for the same reasons---she doesn't want me upset by her plight. Yes, that's why; she doesn't want me---_

Pressing her hand to her face, Kathy found the sudden onslaught of overpowering emotions---fear, sorrow, outrage. She couldn't break down now; not with her fourteen-year-old daughter facing a possible rape pregnancy. Lizzie would greatly need her strength if---if---

Dropping her hand, she sighed heavily. They weren't supposed to be here. She and Elliot had passed on their Roman Catholic faith to prevent this, among other pitfalls. Also, as each child guessed the truth about the parents' pseudo-shotgun marriage (_It would have_ _happened anyway_), Kathy had always underscored the financial and emotional stresses of the early part of the marriage.2

_But now, despite everything we did---despite everything she did or didn't do…here we are---and under the worse circumstances! _

Not willing to think more on the subject, she took a magazine, wanting to take advantage of possibly the last minutes of peace she would have for a while.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth was inside the small changing room adjourning an exam room. Dressed in a pastel gown, she caught her reflection in a full-length mirror on the wall. Normally, she suspected, women would look eagerly for signs of impending mother or amusingly at their changing shapes. But now the only reflection was that of herself: anxious with wide, watery eyes, the gown fastened in the front despite the nurse's instructions, and her crossed arms pressed against her chest.

_It's not just pregnancy I fear---it's the exam. _Her mind flashed images---lying on her back---instruments inserted inside her---exposed skin scrutinized---

_**Should I get Mom?! **_

"No," she answered herself firmly. She herself was stressed enough---she couldn't deal with her mother's. _Once step at a time, Liz, just like Dr. Olivet told you today. Don't speculate---just get through this once step at a time. You're safe; you're being seen by a female doctor---your mother's doctor. Just blank your mind of everything but the next step, which is to walk into the next room and wait for the doctor._

When the doctor and a nurse entered the exam room a few minutes later, they found her sitting on a low stool, staring at a pregnancy diagram on the far wall. Turning her head, she revealed solemn but placid expression. She was resigned to the immediate future.

_It would be so great if I could feel this way no matter what happens._

**Meanwhile…**

"Hey, Ken, what up?" Fin greeted into his cell as Lake guided the car through the traffic.

"I'm fine, Dad." His son sounded wearily amused. "'The Coed Robber-Rapist' didn't get me yet."

Sighing, Fin said, "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for dinner tonight."

"Oh, OK, sure," the young man said slowly after a short pause.

"Look, I know I've been riding you about your safety," his father explained, "but, you know, it's because I care about you, kid."

"I know, Dad," replied Ken. "It's just that in the past couple of months, you've been acting like I'm your _daughter_."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, _son_," Fin said, sighing. "Look, I know that Morgan's been caught, and I know I sound like a hypocrite3, but it's still a dangerous world out there. You gotta watch yourself, always!"

"I do, Dad, don't worry." Ken tried to ease his father's fears. "And besides, when something like that hits close to home, lightning doesn't strike twice. Now, I heard Applebee's has this special…"

**Several hours later**

When Rebecca answered the urgent knocking, she was not surprised to see Elliot. However, she was not accustomed to his appearance. His face was tear-stained, his eyes were red, and despite a nip in the air, he was not wearing a jacket. His face, however, wore a look of helpless despair.

"Please help me," he pleaded in a near-whisper, "my---my daughter Liz…my poor kid…she's _pregnant_."

_Author's note: Applebee's is a registered trademark._

1 Once Elliot put his revolver behind the ear of a human trafficker as the latter slept. However, the detective chose not to kill him.

2 In "Lunacy," which aired subsequent to the start of this story, Dickie mirthfully figures things out in his father's presence. Elliot, obviously embarrassed, chose not to comment. However, in this fictional setting, events occurred differently.

3 Fin is referring to his getting shot a few seasons ago.


	24. Chapter 24

Elliot was sitting down on the couch opposite the sympathetic and yet professional Rebecca. His head was bowed, and his hands were clinched on his lap. He was dry-eyed now, but his voice was strained.

"When they got home, I was in the bedroom putting Eli down for his nap. I…heard the door open, and then I heard Lizzie's footsteps race upstairs. I stopped what I was doing, because, well, I was hoping---hoping that she'd come looking for me, to tell me that she wasn't…that she wasn't…"

He lifted his head, staring upward while letting out a huge sigh. Then he continued in a monotone, staring forward blankly.

"But I heard the steps hurry into her room, I head the door slam, and…even before I heard Kathy's slow steps, I…I knew."

"Did you speak to your daughter?" inquired the counselor.

He shook his head. "Kathy told me. She also gave the reasons why she wants to put the---give the---she gave the reasons why she didn't want an abortion."

"Why?" Her probe was gentle.

Another sigh preceded his response. "She doesn't want to go against her beliefs. In spite of everything, she's willing to have that scum's kid."

"If she strongly believes that abortion is murder, than you shouldn't press her to change her mind, Elliot," the doctor counseled gently. "Her resulting self-reproach would harm her emotionally. Plus, an abortion against her conscience could easily make her feel violated again."

"I know, I know." He continued to look vacantly forward, but his voice was adamant. "She doesn't need that---she's been hurt enough."

"You mentioned _'reasons' _before---is there another one?"

He smirked. "According to Kathy, on the way home she kept saying tha t the baby 'could become the next Olivia.'"

Rebecca nodded, undersanding."I see. Has she mentioned a specific plan for after the birth?"

"Yeah." Elliot looked at her directly now. "She wants to put...it up for adoption. Lizzie feels that, this way, some good will come out of everything. Not that she's jumping for joy."

"That's to be expected," responded Dr. Hendrix. "I'd like to see her soon, needless to say. But, it's obvious that you need help as well. And I think it would be better if you had a different counselor."

**Meanwhile, back at the Stabler residence**

Elizabeth lay on her top bunk, her arms folded behind her head, eyes fixed upon the ceiling. In a way, she felt almost ethereal, as if she had entered some type of emotional limbo. There was a calmness---no, emotional emptiness. But, there was also a sense of latent anticipation.

_It's like I'm on the verge of something. Hysteria? Depression?_

Sighing, she got off of the bunk and stood silently, hands over her stomach. _I feel nothing yet, but it's __there_._ And I can't take it away! I'll just feel worse---_

Suddenly, she _did _feel worse. _I'm pregnant! I'm really pregnant! And I'm only fourteen! Will people see at graduation? My friends and classmates will just feel sorry for me, but what about other people?_

Suddenly she could not wait to see Dr. Hendrix again.


	25. Chapter 25

**The Stabler Residence**

While her father poured his heart out to Rebecca and her mother and sisters mourned and comforted one another, a weary but resolved Lizzie made an important call on her cell. She had been reluctant to speak to this person before, when shame and fear had stayed her hand. But now, she had recovered enough to reach out.

"Hello, Olivia," she said right after the detective's greeting.

From her home, where she had just finished putting away her groceries, Benson paused, and then broke into a wide smile. "Lizzie? Hey, kid, how are---what's happening?"

"I'm pregnant." She was barely audible.

Her smile freezing, the detective stood silently. _Did I hear her correctly? Is…there some mistake…?_

She hesitated so long that the girl began quickly: "Maybe I should call back---"

"No, no, it's OK, Liz," the detective managed calmly, silent tears pooling in her eyes. "Is…is there anything I can do to help?"

"You already _are_ helping, Olivia. You see…this would be harder, but…but I think of _you_, it becomes easier. You're a really decent person, and you help people where it really counts. So, I figure that if…this baby gets a good, decent home, with Catholic parents, and turns out to be just a little like you, then…something positive will come out of all this. I'll be able to get through it."

By now Benson's eyes were running streams, but her voice did not betray this. "Thank you, Liz, for the vote of confidence. And, there are plenty of worthy parents who'll raise the baby properly, and I'm sure your priest can refer you to other assistance."

"I know he will. Look, I know that you were---you've been…keeping me in your thoughts since, the beginning. Thanks."

"It's the least I can do." Olivia brushed her hand across her cheeks.

"Well, I'm going to let you go now. Thanks again, Liv."

"You're welcome. Take care." _That's the best you can do?!_

After they had said their farewells and hang up, the detective did something she had not done since her teen-age engagement1 had dissolved: she raced to her bedroom, fell across the bed and sobbed in grief and outrage.

1 When she was in high school, Olivia became engaged to college student in his twenties. After her mother's violent reaction (and young Benson's self-defense), the marriage plans were cancelled.


	26. Chapter 26

**The Stabler residence, two months later, late afternoon**

In the bathroom, Lizzie stepped back to examine her refection. In the sleeveless chemise dress, her slight baby bump and enlarged breasts were not noticeable. She could get through the graduation ceremony.

_And then while Richard's at the Henderson's blowout, I'll be going with Aunt Tricia to Jersey. And then from there, it won't matter who sees. That's enough 'party' for me at this point. _She then went to put on her pumps.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the kitchen, Elliot went to the refrigerator and withdrew a small plastic container. Looking down at the corsage inside, he once again tried to focus positively. _She's graduating from junior high school, just as planned. And next she's going to high school with college in her future, like we've always discussed. She's just going about it differently. She'll be back home after the baby's born and adopted._ _And then it'll all be behind us-behind her._

Just then, Kathy entered the room, her face somber. "Everyone's ready."

"OK, then, let's go. And Kath, I know this isn't easy…"

"No, it isn't," she sighed. "But we can do this. There _is_ reason to celebrate." She managed a small smile.

**The 16****th**** Precinct, Manhattan**

Looking up from his computer, Munch said to his partner, "You know, according to their school's website, the Stabler twins graduate today."

"Yes, I've already sent gift cards." Her manner was almost indifferent.

"So how long is Elizabeth going to be gone?"

Olivia leaned back in her chair and sighed. "According to Elliot, at least until December."

"Hopefully, it'll be a happy holiday." He resumed his work.

**The Henderson residence, Glen Oaks, Queens, hours later**

_This is starting to get out of hand._ Richard, hot dog in hand, observed several inebriated boys as they laughed loudly and stumbled across the backyard. _They weren't even invited-they just showed up drunk! I'd better sneak a word to someone before those guys ruin it for everyone!_ He was moving towards the house when a mocking voice rang out:

"Hey, Dickie-Dude! Your twin headin' ou' to a convent 'til she pops?"

His face burning, Richard dropped his sandwich, turned, and clenched his fist. For a few moments he glowered at the smirking teen. Then, he hurried into the house, stormed through the kitchen, dining room, and living room before exiting out the front door. Breaking into a full run, he did not stop until he arrived home.


	27. Chapter 27

**The 16****th**** Precinct, 2 weeks later, midmorning.**

Captain Cragen was going through his newly arrived mail when he saw Lizzie's name on one tiny stiff envelope. Suspecting its contents, he nonetheless opened it eagerly. He wasn't disappointed.

_Dear Captain Cragen:_

_Thank you so much for the check! Since my aunt uses the same bank, I was able to cash it the same day. Of course, I got some use out of it at the local mall. Might as well take advantage of one of my good days! Well, I've got to get back to my new novel. The way this chapter is going, I'm not going to watch my new DVD tonight!_

_Thanks again,_

_Lizzie_

He reread the letter again and let out a sigh. _"Might as well take advantage of one of my good days!" You do just that, little lady. You keep learning to cope. That's what leads to recovering._

**The Stabler Residence**

For the first time in a few years, the Stablers were taking a vacation over a Fourth of July weekend. Since Elliot was working a desk job and since there were no crises in the City, he could take a few days off to join his family for a long, uninterrupted weekend. There was some jovial anticipation as everyone packed for Monmouth County, New Jersey, but private darkness lurked within each mind.

Elliot: _Well, once again, I have to literally face my baby's worse crisis_.

_Kathy: I'm glad that at least Eli won't have any comprehension or memories of what's happening_.

Maureen: _I love my sister, and I know it's not her fault, but it feels like the first family vacation in years is spoiled before it begins!_

Kathleen: _I-we just have to focus on the __positives__, like seeing our relatives, going to the beach, seeing the fireworks, and of course, having Dad around for a change._

Richard: _At least we're not likely to run into anybody we know!_


	28. Chapter 28

**Psychologist's office, Queens, New York**

"Well, at best, it was a mixed bag," Elliot admitted. "I mean, it was great to see my little girl again, and I was glad to see that she was coping OK. I…it was hard, seeing her, like…_that_, though."

"You mean _pregnant_?" said Dr. Emil Skoda.

He sighed. "Before, she kept a low profile at home. And she always wore baggy clothes, plus she wasn't so…_big_."

"How did this affect the way you interacted with Elizabeth?"

"Well, my undercover training helped me to hide my, uh, discomfort," he replied, "so I was able to talk with her, watch the fireworks with her." He gave a small smile.

"How did she interact with you?"

"Well…" Elliot paused, his gaze far away. Then: "It wasn't easy listening to her talk about the prospective adoptive parents-she's going to start interviewing them this week-but I-me and Kathy listened. We encouraged her, and she seemed to appreciate our participation. She was happy and a bit relieved."

"Were any of your other children included in the discussion?"

"Maureen was in the room-the living room, bouncing Eli, but she didn't speak. She sat beside Lizzie the whole time, and would nod or smile occasionally. Kathleen and Dickie were getting a couple of pizzas for us." He paused pensively before adding: "That's probably why she brought it up." Sighing, he added: "You know, sometimes she seems to handle it better than we do."

"Well, it does appear that she is handling certain aspects of her situation better," the other man responded. "And, to quote Martha Stewart, 'that's a good thing.' Your continued support would also be positive." He glanced furtively at his watch before continuing. "By the way, when was the last time you spoke to any of your former colleagues at the 16th Precinct?"

**Olivia Benson's Apartment, 11:00PM**

Her bedtime snack hastily devoured, she was about to go to her bedroom when the phone rang. _Please be a wrong number! As if I'm going to be that lucky after a day like today…_

"Benson." She refrained from looking at the caller ID.

"Hi, Liv, I figured you'd be up, if you were at home, that is."

"Elliot! Hi, how are you?" Olivia felt a surge of surprise and elation.

"I'm better."

"Great! How's…how's the family?" She had almost mentioned Elizabeth specifically.

"They're fine. And, uh, Lizzie's hanging in there, getting ready to pick parents for the, uh, baby. We saw her over the weekend; she says 'hello.'" He was trying to be casual.

"Tell her I said 'Hello yourself.' How are Kathy and the rest of the mob?"

"Oh, they're fine. Eli's starting to roll around on the floor whenever he wants to get somewhere. But he stands up when he has something to hold onto, so I guess we'll be chasing after him one day soon."

"Terrific, you could probably use the exercise these days!"

"Hey, hey, watch yourself, Detective! Sometimes I _do_ need to get something from the file cabinet, and other times I make a pot of coffee-and tell Munch to stay away from here!" _Though sometimes I do miss his bad brew._

After a few more minutes of bantering, Elliot wished his partner goodnight and hung up. He then showered and joined Kathy in the master bedroom. As he dozed off later, he planned to call John tomorrow evening.


	29. Chapter 29

**Office of Dr. Elizabeth Olivet, late December 2010**

"So, Elizabeth, how do you feel now?" the psychologist asked.

"I'm…well, I'm still happy with my decision," the teen replied. "Mrs. O'Brian was in the delivery room with me, and she started crying as soon as the baby did. And I did manage to leave a letter for Megan Olivia."

Olivet raised her eyebrows slightly. "Who gave the baby her name?"

"Me and the O'Brians. They…they asked if I wanted to give her a middle name, and, I, uh, picked the name of…my dad's former partner. She's, she's a product of rape and yet she's great cop and helps a lot of people. So I figured, since the baby is in the same boat, sort of, giving her Olivia's name is, well, my way of saying that she can turn out great, make something of herself, despite her origins."

"Is that what you wish to happen for her?"

She nodded. "Yes," she admitted. "I guess I still need reassurance that everything is going to be all right, huh?"

"Do you feel uneasy about the future?" Dr. Olivet probed gently, not wanting to unduly influence the girl.

Lizzie sighed, dropping her head. "I know it's been almost year, I know that I had the baby, I am _overjoyed_ that I held onto my beliefs, I know that I didn't drop out of school, I know that I didn't get AIDS or some other disease, and I know that my rapist is in prison for a very long time. But I just don't feel…well, like I used to. You know, happy-or at least OK, content-most of the time."

"So how do you feel now?"

"Well, I'm a little nervous about how other people are going to react when I return. I mean, are they going to talk to me or stay away thinking I don't want to talk? And what about dating and dances? I'm not sure if I'm in the mood for either. Plus, I…I haven't been to my grandmother's house since-since the rape, I don't know how I'm going to feel if, when…" She sighed again. And then she lifted her head to look mistily at the mental health professional.

"Well, first, not to sound like a broken record, but yes, your feelings are normal," Olivet stated gently. "Second, if you don't want to attend a school function or go on a date, then you have the right to decline. Your emotional and mental well-being is what's most important. And, as to your other problems, let's discuss some strategies…"

**Meanwhile…**

"As far as holidays go," Elliot informed Dr. Skoda, "it was a mixed bag, leaning towards the positive side."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, we were all glad to have her home again," the cop answered. "And I'm real glad to have the pregnancy behind us. Oh, and I can't say enough about Lizzie's decision. She showed me a strong side of her that I didn't know she had. And at least some good came of this ordeal." He paused and then added: "She asked us, especially Dickie, about the neighborhood and school-you know, playing catch up."

"So what was negative?"

Elliot sobered, looking down briefly. "She seemed a little nervous when we went to church, like when people would come up and say things like 'Welcome back' or simply 'Merry Christmas.' She would either thank them or say 'Same to you,' but I could see she was a bit edgy. Sure, it was just for a moment, but still, that's not what you want for the holiday."

"How do you feel about those occasions?"

"Well, that they were to be expected, and that, overall, we got through them." Elliot managed a small but sincere smile. "I think we're going to be all right."


End file.
